


Child's Play

by BNZG



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Bad Ending, Creepy, Halloween, Horror, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Macro/Micro, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Sad Ending, Shrinking, Teenagers, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 15:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16643291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BNZG/pseuds/BNZG
Summary: Sometimes, no good deed goes unpunished really is a true adage.Originally a Halloween G/T fic. Making it the first installment to what I'll call the "Make-Believe" stories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for strong language (in the form of F bombs)

After watching an inebriated, dolled-up 'witch' retch and vomit into the garden, Samantha wished she lied about being free on Saturday.   
  
She couldn't turn down Vicky's offer when she begged for her to come, especially since she bought her those cordless headphones for her seventeenth birthday last year. It was only fair for her to attend her friend's own party, which always took place right before Halloween. Still, as much as she loved her best friend, she would give her own right hand to just get back home and watch a movie than stay in the loud and now utterly trashed family room of her friend's home. Hell, she didn't even wear a Halloween costume like the vast majority of those at the party were, making her feel more out of place than ever. Vicky had said a T-shirt and jeans were just fine, so she went with it.  
  
The rap music was blaring far too loudly for her to make out any of the conversations in the room, and with several party-goers having a drinking contest in the backyard, even that wouldn't supply her with the desired peace and quiet she sought for.   
  
She kept her Pepsi in her lap, nervously thumbing the rim of the plastic cup, while trying to ignore the rising noise all around her. She couldn't help but notice her own bored and anxious expression reflected in the dark liquid.   
  
_"Next time...I'll just give her a present after school."_  
  
She jumped when someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Vicki, wearing a rather skimpy Cleopatra costume, plopped herself right next to her on the couch, looking at her with concerned eyes.   
  
"Hey... you okay? I can tell you're not having fun here."   
  
Samantha sighed. There was no point in lying now. "There's literally only five people I know here, and they're all too drunk to even  _walk."_ Samantha huffed a bit, looking back down at her drink. Her tone was rather accusatory when she said, _"_ Vicky, you know I don't like going to  _these_ kinds of parties."   
  
Vicky scoffed in response, "Sam, you don't like going to  _any_ parties. When was the last time you actually went to one? Family ones don't count."   
  
"I went to your graduation party at the bowling alley."   
  
Vicky rolled her eyes, "That was  _middle school!_ " her smile widened as she moved her hand to rest on her friend's knee. "See, you can't even name one recently, can you?"   
  
"Well, it's different when you have a ton of college kids over who only bring alcohol and..." Samantha's eyes narrowed when he saw a boy with a half-ripped T-shirt and visibly dilated pupils stumble across the room. He bumped into one girl, who was dressed in a cheerleader outfit that was two sizes too small and keep going. "Vick, are you  _seriously_  going to allow this?"   
  
Vicky didn't seem alarmed however, and Sam began to wonder if she herself had partaken in a bit of substance abuse herself. "Relax, he's not harming nobody. Besides, he always leaves early when he's like this. Bet you he'll be heading home in like ten minutes. "   
  
Samantha's fingers twitched in agitation. It was only seven minutes past nine o'clock, a little over an hour since the party had started, and already she had seen enough. The couple in the corridor to the kitchen were whispering suggestively to each other, getting far too handsy in public view of everyone. Everyone was practically shouting over the deafeningly loud music, she could barely hear her own thoughts. And now another person was throwing up outside of the backdoor for all the world to see.   
  
At least Vicky had something to say about that. She pointed her finger to the lanky teen who was gripping the patio door and shouted, "Hey, you! Emma's boyfriend! Get the hose and wash that off the steps!"   
  
He gave a shaky nod, still recovering from motion sickness before he disappeared somewhere to the left.    
  
_"Bossy much?"_ Samantha thought, eyeing her friend who now bore a face of annoyance. She took a sip of her soda before addressing her. "Vick, your party's gone out of control. You have to do something."   
  
"This isn't out of control, Sam," Vicky informed her, standing up to her feet. "I've seen out of control, and this ain't it."   
  
Samantha just shook her head and took deep gulps of her soda.   
  
"Look," her friend said, straightening out the skirt of her dress, which wasn't saying much given that there were long slits on both sides that showed off her tanned legs in their entirety. "I can tell you'll just be miserable here, even if I have you wait up in my room. So I'll drive you home in a bit, okay? Besides, you and three other people want out. Quincy, Ashley and her boyfriend, what's-his-name want to leave too. Mind carpooling?"   
  
Normally, she did mind when it was with people she wasn't familiar with, but she just wanted to leave more than anything else. She'd bear with it. "Yeah, sure. When will you take me back?"   
  
"Once I see if Jack can keep watch while I'm gone and th-"   
  
_CRASH!_  
  
All eyes in the room looked towards the source of the sound at the same time. On the floor was a shattered remains of what was an opulent green vase, the silvery beads that were once at the bottom of it were now scattered across the floor.   
  
The alleged perpetrator, who seemed to be having a hard time remaining on his feet, was looking down at it and at the numerous pairs of eyes looking at him.   
  
Samantha literally saw the instant her friend's face shifted from surprise to furious within a fraction of a second. Balling her fists, Vicky muttered, "Motherf..." before stomping towards the teen next to the counter. Everyone respectfully, and somewhat fearfully, parted away from her as she reached the teenager who hadn't moved from his spot. Now confronted with a girl dressed in a racy dress and burning eyes, he seemed to sober up a bit when she drilled a finger into his chest.   
  
_"Dammit Lou!_   I told you not to be breaking any of my parents'  _shit!_  How the hell am I going to explain this to them!?" She shrieked, her eyes narrowing upon his.   
  
"It was an  _accident!_  I was just trying to get another glass," the boy, Lou said in his defense, left hand raised in acquiescence.   
  
But Vicky wasn't having any of it. She continued to barge into the young man's space and slammed a hand on the counter. "My dad's gonna flip his shit when he sees it gone! It was over five hundred _bucks!_ Do  _you_ have five hundred dollars on you right now? Do you!?"   
  
If Samantha had been just a little nervous before, now her anxiety shot through the roof. She clenched the cup in her hands and chewed on her bottom lip. She knew where this was going.  
  
Now it was time for Lou to get angry, he straightened up and looked down on the party's hostess and snarled. "Why the hell would I have the money on me right  _now!?_  I'll pay you back when I get paid! I can't do anything now!"   
  
"And what am I supposed to tell me parents?" Aside from the two people in the kitchen who were in an extremely vocal argument and the music that still continued to play in the background at full blast, everyone had became quiet. Had it not been for the sudden and tense circumstances, Samantha would have appreciated the lack of chatter.   
  
"I don't know! I mean-what-like...you expect me to fix it or something? It's in  _a million pieces!_ If you need money, I'll give it to you  _next week!"_  
  
"Oh,  _bullshit."_ Vicky's voice became acidic. "I know your poor-ass McDonald's money ain't going be enough to pay me in time. You're just saying shit to just get me off your ass, aren't you?"   
  
Samantha winced. This was a  _very_  unpleasant side she was seeing of her friend, and it was making her uncomfortable for her to witness it all take place in her presence. She usually was a pretty good friend, since she had been one of the few she had since she was a kid just moving to the new school. Funny, outgoing and pretty kind. Never had she expected her to go off the rails like she was now.   
  
Apparently though, Lou was standing up for it, "Now wait a minute,  _bitch._ I tell you it's an accident and when I offer to pay, you light up on me like I didn't just offer to pay. Then pay for it yourself,  _skank!_  It's your party! I don't give a damn what your parents think!"   
  
"You asshole!"   
  
Samantha half expected her to slap the other boy in the face, but to her surprise, she remained rooted in place, arm still by her side.   
  
"I invite you to the party because Kevin wanted to bring someone who was actually fun, and he brings a punk who can't even take a shot!" Vicky pointed at the front door, her eyes still trained on the semi-drunk teen. "Get the hell out of here! And don't you dare step a foot back in my house ever again!"   
  
Samantha watched the boy stammer a bit before turning on heel. He took rocky steps towards the door, muttering darkly under his breath the entire way. The door slammed behind him, resonating against the walls, and she could still hear him swearing up and down the entire way until his voice could no longer be heard.   
  
But Vicky still looked absolutely peeved. She turned her head to look at the various party-goers who were now looking at her and shouted, "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm telling you  _all_ to get the fuck out of my house! Right now!  _Move!"_  
  
There was a short stint of silence before everyone began start walking, some of them grumbling under their breath while reaching for their belongings or talking in a hushed manner. Vicky didn't seem to care all that much that they were all talking either about her or what had happened and swiped something out of the drawer.   
  
Samantha stiffened when she saw her friend stomp towards her. She momentarily panicked when her friend threw something at her and scrambled to catch it. Looking down into her hands, she saw it was her bundle of keys, with a little plush bear hanging dangling off the end of it.   
  
Before she could ask, Vicky answered for her. "Go start the car up for me."   
  
Samantha merely nodded and watched her friend walk past her and go up the stairs with forceful steps.   
  
As everyone began to pour out of the house, Samantha quickly made her way to the garage.   
  
At least her wish to get home quicker was granted.   
  


\----- 

Samantha sat in the passenger's seat with the heat on. It had been freezing inside, with the leather seats having absorbed the evening chill. She wished her friend had seat warmers underneath, at least. It took forever for the car to actually get warm enough for her to stop shivering. She couldn't wait to step back into her own home and get under the comforter. And, if her father was still up, as he usually was at this time of night, probably have some of his home-brewed cocoa if he hadn't already made some while she she was out. 

Her father, although allowing her to go to her friend's party without worry, had pointed out correctly that she wouldn't have enjoyed it. And probably laugh at her when she would inevitably tell him what happened. 

Well, at least he'd get a kick out of it. 

It was hard not to feel a little bit somber though. Vicky had definitely changed in some ways since middle school. While she had been pretty nitpicky and mouthy as a kid, particularly to her parents, she seemed far more volatile as she grew older. And for once, she couldn't chalk it up to hormones. Still, whenever she had the chance, she'd have to talk about how she handled the situation sometime in the near future. 

Several minutes later, several people burst out of the garage door, with Vicky right behind her, still looked pissed from the earlier incident. She was now out of her flashy costume and in more conventional clothes, a brown skirt with black tights, leather boots and a green turtleneck. One guy, a boy around her age and wearing a varsity bomber jacket and black jeans, held the door for her before closing it. She didn't recognize him as Quincy at first, he apparently bleached his hair at the last minute before coming to the party it seemed. 

The other two, a guy and a girl, were both wearing Gothic vampiric costumes. The girl's costume bolstered her cleavage far too high to look comfortable, with her heels looking just as painful to wear as well. Her boyfriend's outfit was far less revealing, but looked rather thin. Even with the cloak, she gathered he was probably colder than he let on. 

Samantha opened her car door with more strength than needed and sat in the driver's seat, the frown still plastered on her face. The others got into the back seats, all of them shuffling into a comfortable position before closing both doors. 

"I should have brought a coat," the female vampire, Ashley if she recalled, groaned to her boyfriend. "Next time, we're taking my car." 

"Your car had junk all over the floors and seats," the other vampire countered, his face flushed for some odd reason. Samantha couldn't tell if he was exacerbated or intoxicated. 

Quincy hushed them when Vicky put the car into reverse. She slowly backed up out of the driveway and onto the street before going forward. The inside of the car was only filled with the sounds of the engine running as everyone noticed Vicky's still dour face. Samantha glanced at her friend before looking out the window, observing her friend's home. 

Vicky lived in a fairly big house, with an expansive, highly-decorated backyard and a wide front yard as well, just like most of the houses in her neighborhood. Samantha knew the first time she met her that she was probably a spoiled child. And to her credit, she was right. Her parents doted on her, no matter how much she demanded or whined; she was used to things going her way, and living large as she always said, unlike Samantha and her father, who lived on the fourth floor of a small, two bedroom apartment. Even now, she remembered how her father struggling financially, with her putting in as much as she could from working as a waitress at a small Italian restaurant down the street.

But with the vase-incident from before, something told her that her parents didn't approve of her having a party at her home while they were out of town. 

"Ashley, we're dropping you and your boyfriend off first. You're next Sam. Quincy, last." Vicky stated tersely, signalling right at the first intersection. 

"Need the directions again?" the girl asked, pulling a napkin out of her purse. She opened her mouth wide to pull out the pair of fangs before wrapping it up tightly into a ball. "Or is it still in the GPS?" 

"I still got it," Vicky answered simply as she got onto the main street. The moon, which had been partially obscured when Samantha had first attended the party, was now in full view. The road was fairly sparse, as it was late into the night, and most of the street lights were already on now. She didn't know where Ashley or her boyfriend lived, but it seemed to be in the opposite direction where she did. 

They rode mostly in uneasy silence, with Vicky currently too high-strung to talk to and the other passengers too wary of the tense atmosphere to start up conversation. 

It had been several minutes with them driving along the winding roads before Vicky let out a sigh. "You guys are way too quiet." 

With the silence broken, it was easier for the others to speak. Ashley's boyfriend was the first to say something. "Well, you were mad as hell from before. Kinda hard not to talk about what happened." 

Vicky sucked in her teeth, her eyes still on the road. "He broke mom and dad's vase!  If they see it like that, they're going to mutilate me. Dad got it for Mom for Valentines Day. I don't even know where they got it from." 

"Still, he said it was an accident." Ashley pointed out, lying her head on her boyfriend's shoulder. "I mean, you saw how everyone was, right? I think half your party was super tipsy." 

"That vase is still over five hundred!" Vicky growled, frustrated. She made a left turn onto a more seclusive street as she drove past the grove of trees, "I can't buy that overnight! Mom and Dad will be back by tomorrow and will ask me where the vase is and I won't know what to say!" 

"Still doesn't mean you should have insulted the guy," Samantha said, no longer afraid to voice her opinion. "Seriously... _'poor-ass McDonalds money'?_  That was really uncalled for." 

To her surprise, she heard Quincy agree with her. "Yeah, she's right. I mean, geez Vick! He even offered to  _pay_  too and you just blew up on him." 

For a moment, Vicky looked like she was about to get uppity once again, her head turning towards her friends for a second, but they all shared the same look of disapproval. Looking back to the road, she squared her shoulders up a bit and huffed. "Fine, fine. I admit it. I got mad. I shouldn't have said that..." 

After several seconds, Vicky let out a bigger sigh. Her voice sounded much more solemn when she said. "Yeah...I blew it out of proportion. That was a really dick thing to do." The now eighteen-year-old glanced at the three in the back. "Do any of you guys have his number?" 

"I do," Ashley's boyfriend said, pulling out his cell from one of his pockets. "I'll have Ashley send it to you since I don't have your number. You might want to hold off though. I don't think he'll pick up after what just happened." 

"Yeah, you're right...um..." Vicky glanced at the boy in the vampire costume, giving him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, I'm terrible with names. What's yours again?" 

"Clarence." 

"Okay, I'll remember that." Vicky told him. Samantha doubted it though; it had taken weeks for Vicky to remember her name. Often calling her Sally or Sadie until she literally took her arm and spelled it out on her hand. And she still remained as forgetful of other names for as long as she knew her.  

"In any case," Ashley said, sounding like she was on her way to sleep, "that was one short-lived party. Me and Clarence were only there for like forty-something minutes." 

Vicky shook her head. Apparently she still had some residual guilt inside her. "Well, I couldn't just  _continue_ after all that. I mean, what was I supposed to do with glass on the floor and...and..." 

Samantha raised an eyebrow as she heard Vicky trail off. Her eyes were unfocused for a moment, as if she had a minor lapse in thought. Her eyes became suddenly downcast without warning, listless and empty. For a moment, she couldn't tell if she was dizzy or not. 

Worried, Samantha lifted a hand to tap her friend's shoulder. "Uh...Vick?" 

_"LOOK OUT!"_

All parties looked forward to see something jump right in front of in front of the car's headlights. 

Vicky seemed to snap out of whatever trance she was in and swerved just in time to miss it. Samantha was thrown back into her seat like a ragdoll, her body contorting a bit as Vicky tried to realign the car back onto the street, only for the tail end to spin hard, throwing off the car's momentum and causing it to fall into a ditch between the road and a field. Samantha closed her eyes as the front shield broke a bit on her side, a sliver of glass falling onto her lap. Everyone braced themselves as the car bounced twice before coming to a complete stop. 

After several nerve-wracking seconds, Samantha opened her eyes. She finally let out the breath she had been holding and looked down to see that she was shaking terribly. Vicky herself looked just as shocked and frightened, her hands clenched around the staring wheel as her wide eyes tried to focus on something ahead of her. 

The passengers in the back, fortunately, hadn't been evidently injured, but were just as shaken as the two up front. Ashley was now wide awake, with Quincy and Clarence holding tightly to the back of their seats. 

It was Quincy who was the first to speak, his voice a pitch higher than normal. "Th-That kid came out of  _nowhere!"_

Ashley, who was hugging onto Clarence tightly, swallowed air before talking, "Did...did you hit him?" 

Vicky, still maintaining a death grip on the steering wheel, was quiet for a few moments before she wet her lips and spoke. "I...I-I don't know..." 

Without another word, she quickly clicked her seatbelt off and opened her car door. The cold breeze hit Samantha almost immediately as her friend observed her surroundings before getting out of the car and onto a grass patch. The car remained at an odd angle, so it was hard to see what was going on, or where they were. 

Hearing her step away from the car, Samantha tried to get her nerves back in order. Her heart was beating faster than it had in a very long time, and she couldn't help but feel jittery from the whole experience. 

It had all happened so fast, she didn't know what just happened, and she sincerely hoped it had merely been a spin-out instead of an accident.

She took a deep breath as well before opening her own car door. The cold air swept in and over her. She zipped up her jacket for more protection against the cold and slowly getting out of the car as well. When her feet made contact with grass and dirt patches, she wobbled a bit on her legs before regaining her balance. She almost didn't notice those in the back follow suit and get out as well. 

Her heart dropped when she heard Vicky whisper a grave, "Oh my God..." 

_"Oh no...oh please no..."_

__With a sense of urgency, she pushed herself up and out of the ditch, and immediately got to her feet. Once out, she saw her friend staring at a tree, eyes wide with shock and horror. Total dread took hold of her heart as she feared the worse. Running as fast as she could, she got to her friend's side at record speed with the other three passengers expecting to see whatever...or worse, _whoever,_ she may have hit. She didn't think she hit it, but it all happened so quickly, there was no warning... 

To her shock and instant relief, she saw a very alive and very unharmed little boy. He looked startled and just as equally shocked Vicky had missed him as much as they were. He had his back to a tree and seemed to be unwinding bit by bit as it became clear that he was very much intact. 

The relief on Vicky's face was palpable, her body slouching forward as she released the tensions in her body. "Oh thank God, you're alive," she breathed, trying to refill her lungs. Samantha couldn't blame her, she was having the same gasping fit. The dread inside her began to slowly ease away, allowing for more breathing room in her chest. 

Clarence, who was also recovering from his own bit of shock, had spoken up, his voiced laced with anger, "What the hell, kid!? Why did you jump in front of the car like that!? Were you trying to get yourself killed!?" 

The child, who looked no older than seven or eight, looked at the boy with wide eyes. "Um...I-I'm s-s-sorry,,,I d-didn't mean to...I was just looking f-for...f-for my home and...and..." 

That was all it took for the him to burst into tears, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. The teenagers watched the child get choked up, withdrawing into himself as he allowed himself to cry. 

Ashley gave Clarence a sharp, reprimanding look. "You just got a way with words, don't you Clarence?" 

Clarence's face softened up immediately, as he held his hands up in a placating manner. "Hey, hey...it was what we all were thinking. And besides, I didn't know he'd break out crying." 

Samantha ignored the squabbling couple as she moved forward past Vicky to the boy. Unlike Vicky, whom she knew wasn't a fan of kids, she had had quite a bit of experience with children, having volunteered over the summer as a camp counselor and aiding her aunt in daycare from time to time. Gently wrapping her arms around him, she pulled the small boy into a gentle hug. "It's okay. It's okay...you don't have to cry...it'll be alright." 

The child continued to cry into her chest, shivering slightly before he returned the embrace. Samantha turned to the others and nodded to assure them that she had a handle of him. Gingerly patting his head, she quietly shushed him and continued to whisper reassurances to him, waiting for him to completely calm down. 

After a couple long minutes, the boy looked up into Samantha's eyes, his large brown ones still a bit misty. "I-I didn't mean to...I was just looking f-for my house and th-then I-" 

"It's alright," Samantha said softly. If there was one good thing out of what was still a terrible evening, it was that she could at least be able to comfort the small child in her arms. "You're lost? You need to get home?" 

The boy pulled away, still sniffling a bit. "Y-yes. I w-was playing outside and...I saw this cool bird and was following it, but then...I don't know where I am." 

"Don't worry, don't worry. We'll help you get back home." She continued to pat his head, brushing his dark brown hair with her fingers. "Do you know your address? Or what color your house is?" 

The boy nodded, raising a hand to wipe his eyes. "I-I do...I live at, um...6772 Greensburg Avenue...it's a big house and...it had a big, big tree in the front and...uh..." 

"It's okay, it's okay. You gave us plenty of information," Samantha told him with a gentle smile before turning to the others behind her, who had watched her comfort the small child in silence, "Hey, do any of you have your cellphone on you?" 

They seemed to jump before quickly scrambling to searching for their cellphones on them. Quincy was the first to discover his. "Yeah, here's mine! Hold on, you said the road was...Greensburg Avenue?" 

The small child nodded, taking a nervous breath. "Uh huh. And...um, the numbers are...6772." 

The tall teenager quickly put the location into his phone and waited a moment before speaking, "Says Greensburg Avenue isn't far from here. Not too far up the road." He looked up from his phone to meet Samantha's gaze, "But I don't see a 6772 on the map. It says 6773 though, so it can't be that far from it." 

"Okay, fair. We'll take him back and explain what happened," Samantha said, helping the child stand up to his feet. He barely came to her shoulders, which was remarkable given that she herself was shorter than average, being barely above five feet tall. 

"We  _all_  just can't go! Someone needs to stay with the car!" Ashley remarked, using a thumb to indicate the car that sat in the crevice in the ground. It lay motionless in the ditch, but to Samantha's surprised, it didn't seem all that dinged up at all. In fact, it wasn't even in that deep upon second glance. 

"I'll stay with the car," Vicky said, raising a hand to her forehead. Now that she had a better look at her friend, Samantha noticed that she seemed to have visibly paled from the little scare they had minutes before. "I need see if I can call in road service from here. But maybe...," the raven-haired teen turned to Ashley and Clarence, who were side-by-side to each other, "You two, help me try to push the car out from the ditch, okay? If I don't have to call it in, I won't." 

Ashley sighed, "Fine...you know, after this, I'm probably not gonna be riding in your car for a long time." 

Vicky rolled her eyes, seemingly not surprised by the statement. "Whatever, whatever, just...get my car out of the rut. Clemence, you better be putting in some mad manpower, you know?" 

The couple engaged in friendly banter as they walked away from the tree and towards the car, leaving Samantha, Quincy, and the young child, who was looking up at the remaining teens curiously. 

Quincy placed his hands on his hips, arms akimbo, "Welp! Looks like I'm coming with you guys. Makes sense since I got the phone already." 

Samantha smiled at him, "Thanks...Quincy. I think this is the first time I've gotten acquainted with you properly." She straightened up a bit, dusting off her jacket. "Like, I've seen you several times and Vick's been talking about you but I don't really, well... _know_ you kinda know you. You, understand what I'm saying?" 

Quincy chuckled a bit. "Yeah, I hear ya. Probably looking different than I did before too since I bleached my hair this morning. I like it blond. Speaking of...Samantha, right?" 

She nodded. "Yeah. Samantha or Sam. Either's fine. Speaking of names..." she turned towards the child, whose head perked up now that he had their attention, "I don't think I even asked your name yet, did I? Sorry about that. What should I call you?" 

The boy returned the smile, "My name's William. William Ainsworth. Nice to meet you!" 

"Well, it's nice to meet you too, Will." Quincy said amiably, raising a hand to the boy for him to high-five. The boy's smile broadened as he leaned forward and hit it. "How 'bout we get going? If my parents couldn't find me in the middle of the night, they'd have a hissy fit." 

"C'mon, let's get moving. I mean, they won't be getting the car out of the ditch any faster, y'know." Samantha said, stretching her legs and rubbing her arms. "Man, it's cold." 

The moment she allowed her hands by her side, she felt William slip one of his own inter her grasp. She looked down at him compassionately and held his hand before ushering Quincy to guide them. 

As Vicky, Ashley and Clarence continued to push the car out, the three began their trek up the road to return the lost boy to his home. 

\----- 

The walk didn't seem that bad, although the chilly night air made it feel like they were moving very slowly. At least to Samantha. 

She turned to look at the boy who was holding her hand, gently swinging it to and fro. The boy looked healthy, if a bit thinner than most kids his age. He had a full head of chestnut brown hair which also matched the colors of his eyes. He looked fairly normal in appearance, and positively adorable. His outfit did throw her off a little though; he was wearing rather formal clothes to be playing outside. A white button down under a dark gray vest and dress pants, a pair of brown loafers...it was as if he was dressed up to go to a special event of some sort. 

Apparently, Quincy must have been thinking the same thing too as he said, "Hey there, Willie... were you going somewhere beforehand? You're looking pretty spiffy to be playing outside this late into the night." 

William looked at the blond teenager, cocking his head to the side before shaking his head. "Uh-uh. I always dress like this. My mom told me to always look proper for everything I do." 

The edge of the Quincy's mouth twitched a bit. "Ah...so you have one of  _those_ types of parents. I can relate," the young man returned to look forward on the path, "My parents used to be the same way. I always had to look all fancy for school and church and whatever. I don't know about you, but when I turned sixteen, I dropped that real quick." 

William looked puzzled, looking down at his outfit before looking at Quincy's. "I don't mind mine. They're comfy to me."  
   
The teen merely shrugged his shoulders, "Well, good on you. My parents used to force me to wear all these suits and stuff and ride up my a- _..._ er... _behind_ whenever they got even a tiny bit dirty." 

Samantha blinked. For the few times she had seen Quincy, he'd always seemed to be on top of the latest fashion, with expensive looking clothes and the newest pairs of shoes. At first, she assumed he had rich parents that would buy whatever he wanted, like Vicky. But lo and behold, turns out he was a bit of a rebel. In a way, she guessed it made sense with him constantly changing the color of his hair. 

Then something occurred to her, and she looked back down at the young boy. "Aren't you cold? You're not even wearing a jacket." 

To her surprise, the boy shook her head. "No, I'm okay. Really." 

"Well, your hands are warm," Samantha noted. Her fingertips were actually freezing, yet his hand felt hot in her grasp. It was a bit unusual. "I mean, it's like forty-something degrees. Forty-one? Forty-two?" 

"Forty-four, actually." Quincy stated, looking back and forth from the phone to the street. He seemed a bit distracted for a moment before saying, "Hey kid, you said it was 6772...right?" 

"Right," the boy nodded, looking up at the other teenager with earnest eyes. "Greensburg Avenue, in a big house with a big, big tree." 

"Ah, okay..." he said, smiling down to the young child before looking back his phone, muttering, "Must be either really new or really old. My phone's not showing it." 

"Flash it to me real quick," Samantha gestured a finger towards her with her free hand, and the tall blond obliged. 

Indeed, she could see that a little over a quarter of a mile was the house numbered through 6770 to 6779. Most on a long stretch of wooded roads.  As she looked more into the map on his phone, she noticed that there seemed to be a jump in numbers from 6771 and 6773. The boy's address wasn't even detected on the interface, not even when she enlarged the picture with her fingers. 

"Huh...that's odd. Will, is your house near the others?" Samantha asked, gazing down at the boy. 

He answered with a worried look, "Uh huh. Right between two other houses!" 

Quincy placed his phone in his pocket. "Maybe it just didn't register on the map. You know how Google is. If we can't find it, we can ask for the police or something." 

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Wait a minute...what am I thinking!?" Samantha hit her head with the back of her other hand. How did she not think about it from the beginning? "Will, do your parents have a phone number? Do you know it?" 

To her surprise, the boy shook his head. "My mom and dad don't use phones. They said they are too noisy and make people lazy." 

Quincy laughed wryly, "Don't tell me...your family's Amish, aren't they?" 

"What's Amish?" 

"...Nevermind, you answered my question." 

"Still, it is weird though..." Samantha pitched in, making an incredulous expression. "No phones at all? Are they old fashion or something? Or...oh, don't tell me. Uh...does your family have...trouble with money?" She felt rude asking such a question. 

But little William took no offense at all it seemed, answering her question with a big smile. "Not at all! We got big rooms! And tons of toys! And a really,  _really_ big yard! We got so much stuff!" 

Samantha breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's good." She had known what it was like to go without when she had been around his age. Especially after the divorce, when her mom left the country and left her with her father, who worked several jobs to try to keep the house. He had trouble paying for all of it and remembered him having to sell a lot of things from the television to the microwave. Even her favorite Easy-Bake Oven wound up being pawned for money, something she cried for hours on end about, not realizing just how bad her father was saddled with debt at the time. One day, the old landlord told him he only had a few months to pay up, and to save money, they stayed and slept in a car for weeks at a time. Luckily, that changed when he got a new job and they moved into a smaller, but more affordable apartment. 

At least he seemed pretty well off, which would explain the expensive-looking attire he was wearing. 

So it seemed like his family was either very antiquated in their ways, or just very eccentric. Didn't sound too bad to her. 

The dirt road was fairly deserted, as there seemed to be no cars coming from either direction. Aside from the distant hoots from an owl and the sound of footsteps on the ground, it was fairly silent. Sure, there were a few crickets chirping, but even that seemed to barely register in her ears. The trees were dark silhouettes on the side of the road, casting shadows over the trio. At times, the brush would become so thick when they walked under, the moon would be completely obscured from view. In a way, it reminded her of a horror movie. 

Well, if it was one, and if Will was a ghost, he was definitely friendlier than most. 

After a couple more minutes of walking, the came to an edge of a hill, where a bright yellow house was stationed up on, with a lush garden and a garden room on the side. 

Quincy glanced at his phone, which casted a bright light under the thick veil of darkness. "That's 6773. The next house we come across must be it then." 

Samantha knelt down to meet William eye-to-eye. "Does that house look familiar to you?" 

The boy's smile widened across his face, which Sam immediately took as a good sign. "Yeah! That's my neighbor's! I know the way back from here!" 

Samantha smiled back. There was a warmness in her heart that she felt when she saw genuine gratitude in someone's face, especially when that someone was someone who was so small. "That's good news! We'll walk you to the door, how's that sound?" 

He responded with a surprise hug, catching Samantha off guard only for a split second before she reciprocated it. He withdrew from her after a couple seconds to latch onto Quincy, who was more taken aback than she was. Apparently, he hadn't had a lot of experience with small children as he slowly returned the hug, patting him on the shoulder before chuckling, "Alright, alright. It's no problem at all. Besides, I think you can probably lead the way from here." 

William seemed pleased with that, as he broke the hug off from Quincy and grabbed both his hand before trotting towards Samantha's to grab hers. "Okay, follow me!" 

As he swung both teens' arms back and forth, they steadily picked up the pace and walked on past the hill with the yellow house. 

As they walked, Samantha stole a few glances at Quincy, who was facing forward and wearing a somewhat faded smile. Now that she was closer to him than ever before, without anyone pulling her attention away, she realized that the blond hair suited him pretty well. He had a boyish-handsomeness to him, with bright blue eyes and a very light scattering of freckles that she was usually too far away to see on any other given day. In fact, with his tall stature and mannerisms, he was pretty attractive. 

It was too bad she knew he liked her friend Vicky, although she never knew it. 

While she had her qualms about her friend, she still wouldn't betray her trust for anything in the world. After all, she had been there during the best and worst times of her school life. And she would had been there for hers. 

But at least like this, with William holding onto her hand with him holding onto Quincy's, she could pretend that they were a couple to some degree. At least, until they reached the child's house. 

It was a bit selfish, but only she would see it that way. 

After a few minutes of walking, they came across a fork in the road, the left one leading to a brown house that still had its lights on, with shadows of people moving about through the curtained window panes. Probably watching TV as she saw a lighter flash popping through them. The right one, on the other hand, was fairly barren and seemed to extend even further. A hill blocked her view as she tried to look beyond it. 

The boy let go of her hand and pointed to the road to the right, arms waving in excitement. "My house is over that hill! We're close! We're really close!" 

"Oh! Okay!" Samantha said, smiling down at the boy. Well, the moment was over, but at least they had gotten near the place they needed to be.

He grabbed her hand again and ran forward, pulling the teens forward with surprising strength for a child his size. She stumbled a bit as she was forced to move faster with him, looking over to see Quincy had also been propelled forward along with her. She allowed it and began to lightly jog with William, hiking up the hill with the two males on her right. All three of them ran over the hill together. Even though she was being buffeted by the wind, she felt like she was having some fun despite how crappy her time had been at the party. This whole situation had brought about nice silver lining to it all. 

Once they made it on the other side of the hill, she saw the house...which was much different from what she had initially been expecting. 

True to what William had said, it was a very big house, even larger than Vicky's house. Not quite a mansion, but not far from it. And there was a very large oak tree, easily dozens upon dozens of feet high, its long branches easily brushing against against the roof of the house. 

The house, in contrast to the tall tree that looked to be in good order, looked as though it was coming apart from the outside. The siding was pealing off, revealing the jagged bricks that made the basic outer structure of the second floor. The wood of the porch patio looked faded and aged, whatever paint that was used long having been heavily subjected to the elements over a undetermined length of time. Even the window shutters looked to be in poor maintenance. 

And, the most telling thing of all, the lights seemed to off in the house. 

Samantha couldn't help but gawk at that. The parents of this lost child should have been absolutely frantic. Wouldn't they have left the lights on to help him get home? Maybe they were out there, searching for him. 

Maybe she was looking too much into it, but she still couldn't help but find it a bit strange. 

William continued to pull both teens to the house as they ran past the large oak tree and towards the patio. The moment William's foot landed on the first step, the lights of the bottom floor came on, shining a yellow light from inside. So there  _was_ someone actually inside. Then, why didn't they turn on the lights? 

They made it to the door, in which William finally let go of both of their hands and knocked on the door. 

There was silence for a few seconds, in which Samantha and Quincy shared a glance before hearing the sound of a doorknob turning. 

The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman dressed in a long green dress and a silky white shawl, bearing a friendly smile. With long brown hair twisted in a long braid and a simple beauty mark on her right cheek, Samantha surmised her to be William's mother. 

This was confirmed within seconds when the child ran into her open arms, hugging her tightly. "Momma!" 

"Oh William! There you are!" she said, her voice filled with warmth and relief. She knelt down and kissed his cheek, gently rubbing a hand up and down his back. The sight made Samantha feel warm inside. 

His mother continued to pat his back, before pulling him back to face him. "Silly child...where were you? Where did you go?" 

Will looked up to both Samantha and Quincy, smiling brightly. "I saw this really pretty bird, and I started chasing it! But, when it I got too close, it flew far away! And then...I was lost! I tried to find my way back but then I almost got hit by a  _car!_ "  

His mother's eyes went wide with shock and horror, "Oh  _dear lord!_  Are you alright!? Are you hurt!?" 

William shook his head before looking back at his mother, "Nope! They missed! But after that, they came out to check on me!" The boy turned to the two teens and smiled even brighter, which seemed to be contagious since Samantha couldn't help but her own smile as well. "And Ms. Samantha and Mr. Quincy came to help me and get me home!" 

William's mother stood up once more, placing her hands on her son's shoulders. She looked at the two teenagers who were both sharing the same look of compassion. Her expressions softened even more than it did before when she addressed them, "You two...I can't thank you in words for the sheer kindness you've shown my son. To go out of your way to bring my child back to me..." 

Samantha cordial waved a hand, "It's okay! No need to thank us, ma'am. He was just a sweetie the entire time." 

Quincy nodded, kneeling down to William's level to give him a playful pat on the head. "Little dude wasn't any trouble at all. Heck, he could've taught me a thing or two about being a good kid at his age. Er...Mrs. Ainsworth?" 

The woman nodded her head, bowing slightly. "Yes, that is my last name. He must have told you," she said as she sidled back into the doorway and held open the door wide for them, standing at the side. "Do please come in, at least for a little bit." 

Quincy spoke up before Samantha got the chance to, "Well...uh, actually...we have a bit of a situation. You see, when we, um...avoided hitting your son, our car kind of fell into a ditch." He gestured behind himself past the open hill and open field, "We got a few friends trying to push it out and they're kinda waiting on us to get back... _so..."  
_  
"Oh no," the woman clasped her hands together in worry, "Is everyone alright? Please tell me no one was hurt." 

Samantha spoke up this time, clearing her voice a bit to get rid of the tiny bit of phlegm in her throat. "It's alright, really. Nobody was hurt at all. In fact, when we left, the car looked like it was still in good order too. So, you don't have to worry."

The woman shook her head, "Still...I can't have you all just go back without any help...how about this," she turned away from the two and looked up the tall staircase behind her, "Oh Frederick...would you come down here please?" 

After a few seconds, there was the sound of someone tromping around upstairs before they saw a man coming down the steps. He looked to be around the same age as Mrs. Ainsworth, with blue eyes, a receding hairline and a neatly trimmed mustache. He was wearing a pair of brown slacks, a slightly stained, white long-sleeved shirt and dress shoes. He must have been in the middle of something because he had been carrying a plank of wood on his shoulder. 

His half-lidded eyes went wide when he spotted his son and the two teenagers at the door. "Oh, Will! You've made it back!"   
He placed the plank down on the side of the staircase railing and came up to hug his son. Will let out a small laugh when he playfully shook him. 

"Hey Papa! These guys helped me back!" Will said, grinning. Samantha couldn't help but think about just how cute this boy's cheerfulness was. It seemed boundless. 

His father looked to them, "Ah...well, I definitely have to thank you two for finding my rambunctious son of mine." 

"Don't mention it! Really!" Samantha felt like she was beginning to reiterate herself, being thanked over and over and appreciating their obvious gratitude. "Actually, aside from a little...er,  _thing,_  he was just a sweetie the entire time." 

Mrs. Ainsworth turned to her husband, her lively tone laced with worry, "Oh honey...these two told us that their car ran into a ditch after they had a bit of am issue. And they can't seem to get it out." 

"Oh no...is it still stuck?" Mr. Frederick Ainsworth asked. At least that was his full name Samantha had presumed. "I've got a tow truck in the back. I can help get it out for you." 

Samantha's eyes brightened upon hearing that. How convenient! "That would help!" She turned to Quincy, who looked a bit pleased by the aspect of getting quick help. "Can you call Vicky, real quick? See if they're open to it if they haven't gotten the car out of the ditch yet." 

He was already dialing the numbers on his phone when he said, "Sure thing, give me a tic." 

The phone was picked up almost instantly. The moment it did, Quincy went on speaking. "Hey Vick, are you guys still trying to push the car out?" 

There was the sound of chatter from the other side, and Quincy responded, "Ah...okay. Well, we got the kid back...yeah...his parents are right here, his father says he has a tow truck and can help pull it out for us...alright, cool...okay, I'll call you back then. See ya when he get back." 

He hung up the phone just as Mr. Ainsworth raised up his hand, "Oh, don't worry! I'll give you guys a ride back!" 

Both teenagers positively flashed the same look of relief the moment those words came out of the older man's mouth. They wouldn't have to walk all the way back in the cold.

"Oh!  _Nice!"_ Quincy beamed, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Thanks mister! My fingers felt like they were going to freeze off!"   

Mr. Ainsworth chuckled before gesturing back to the plank of wood, "Well, first, let me finish a couple things. It won't take long at all." He branched to the side and next to his wife and child. "In the meantime, how about you two taking a break from this night air and warm yourselves up. You'll only catch a cold if you keep standing out here on the porch." 

Samantha was more than happy to take up the offer. "Thank you very much." She stepped in, immediately feeling the warm draft of the house heat up her partially numbed fingers. It was instant bliss. Quincy wasn't at all far behind her, as he let out a contented sigh upon having some shelter from the bone-chilling cold. 

As the older man made his way back up the stares with the plank, Mrs. Ainsworth pointed them towards the left with an open hand. "How about you two have a seat. I'll make you both some tea while he finishes what he has to do." 

Both of them respectfully complied. 

\----- 

In stark contrast to the nearly-dilapidated exterior of the house, the interior was absolutely sublime. 

She couldn't help but continue to take it all in, even after Mrs. Ainsworth had returned from the kitchen after setting a kettle on the stove. The living room they were currently sitting in was styled in a very classical design. With lemon chiffon colored walls and several impressionist paintings, there was already a lot to see. The marble coffee table in the center what polished clean, shining under the bright, glass-framed lamp that hung directly above it. The lime-green curtains hung majestically from the borders of the windows. A rug of stellar quality took up most of the floor, making the room seem more comfortable than it already felt. The large, wooden fireplace, barred by glass sat at the very other side of the room; supplying enough heat for the teenagers to finally thaw out. From what she could make out from her position, the other rooms looked just as lavishly decorated as the one they were currently in. She could only dream of living in a place as gorgeous as this.

"You have a beautiful house, Mrs. Ainsworth." Samantha remarked, keeping her hands on her lap as to not get anything on the white and gold, velvet couch she was sitting in. Beside her, William kicked his feet back and forth, his bright eyes on the teenage girl next to him. 

Mrs. Ainsworth, who was sitting on a tall chair positioned adjacent from her, laughed appreciatively. "Oh, thank you so much dear. And please, just call me Georgette. There's no need to be so formal." 

"Um...Mrs.Ains-I mean, Ms. Georgette, if you don't mind me asking, what do you guys do for a living?" Quincy asked from his seat in the other adjacent armchair, his eyes examining the wall of numerous portraits. "I mean, what job can I do when I graduate high school so I'd be able to afford all this?" 

"Oh, I shouldn't be one to talk. I've actually been a housewife for most of my life," she turned her gaze towards the young boy sitting right by her, "When taking care of this little one...you'll have your hands full often. You know what they say, a mother's work is never done." 

While Samantha technically had a case to refute that, given her own experiences, she remained polite and conceded with a grin. "I guess that's true."  

"My husband on the other-hand used to work as at a publishing company for a while, but now he's long retired." The older woman leaned back into her chair, the orange hue of the fireplace illuminated her face. "Now, he's just out and about, fixing up some of his old things or making new ones from scratch. Always needing to stay busy, that's just men are." 

"Well, I don't know about that," Quincy stated, turning his gaze to the pictures that were now sitting on a shelf in a the small alcove above the fireplace. "If I lived in a place like this, I'd think I would barely leave my house." 

"Oh you two are just too much," Ms. Georgette giggled before looking at both teens inquisitively, "By the way...are you both school students? You both look very young." 

Samantha nodded, "Yeah, actually. Seniors. Now it's only a countdown until we're out of the system!" 

"Amen to that!" Quincy said with a grin, and Samantha couldn't suppress a subtle blush streaking across her face. Good thing she was probably too far from him for him to tell. Although, judging from the broadening smile on William's face as he continued to look up at her, it seemed he noticed. At least, he wasn't saying anything about it...out loud. 

"I see...children are always so eager to leave school nowadays. When I was still in school, I hated going home because that meant I had to start the farm work the moment I got to the barn." 

"Ah, I guess I can understand that," Samantha said slowly. "To be honest, I can't wait to graduate so I can work full time. Just want to get more money in when I can since I'm almost always broke." 

"That makes sense. Times are more expensive for this generation now." She turned to Quincy, "And what about you, young man? What do you want to do after you graduate?" 

Quincy raised a hand to rub the back of his hand, his eyes diverting from the woman's ahead of him. "Ah, yeah...well...I don't think you'd be a bit proud of it if I told you." 

The woman gave him a good humored chuckle, "Now, now...I've heard all sorts of embarrassing and unconventional career choices. So long as it isn't something that can't be mentioned in front of William, I'm very curious to hear." 

"Ah...okay," Quincy started, his eyes going back from the woman, to William and to Samantha herself before he went on, "You see..I kind of...well...I kind of want to get into the inking business. You know...making tattoos." 

Samantha, as well as William who stopped moving his legs, both shared the same surprised look. While Samantha hadn't really known Quincy for long whatsoever, she didn't recall seeing any tattoos on him whenever she did see him throughout her high school years. At least, any tattoos that were visible outside his clothing. 

William actually spoke out, sticking his tongue out at him. "Tattoos are so  _gross!"_    
   
Quincy's looked at the boy with wide eyes, a bit confounded. "H-Hey now...tattoos can be pretty cool, you know! They're a form of art that can make someone look awesome! You just...haven't seen the right ones yet." He perked up almost immediately before reaching into his jacket pocket for something. "Hold on...lemme show you something." 

After a few moments, he pulled his hand out, holding a folded sheet of paper between his fingers. He opened it up before placing it on the coffee table, facing it away from him and in William's direction. Samantha peaked over as well to get a closer look; she opened her mouth in awe at what she saw. 

On the sheet of paper was a picture of a pastel tiger. It had realistic proportions and the colors made it even more convincing as if it were almost photographed. Its eyes were strikingly blue, contrasting against the lightly dulled color of it's orange and black striped fur. The trees in the background looked just as beautifully drawn, their canopies coming in several different shades of green. On the left hand side, his initials, Q. L., were written in distinct cursive writing. 

"Wow, did you draw this?" she heard William ask him as he grabbed the picture from the coffee tabletop. She watched his eyes look around the picture, moving the paper to see it at different angles. 

Quincy responded proudly, lifting his chin up, "I sure did. Drew it yesterday during Physics class and finished coloring it at home." 

Samantha took a moment to admire the picture a bit longer before saying, "This is really amazing. It almost looks real. Have you always been this good at art?" 

As William passed the picture over to his mother, Quincy seemed to take a moment to ponder on his answer. "Well...sorta. I mean, when I was in elementary school, there was this super nice art teacher who let me draw on her board every morning before class. She told me that it looked really nice and gave me some pointers, so I just kept doing it until I went to middle school." He leaned back into his chair, staring at a picture of an autumn tree. "Then, my mom actually had me take art lessons after school, which was boring but after I went to high school, I just...picked it back up again."

"This is quite nice Quincy," Ms. Georgette complimented, bringing the picture closer to her face, "Artistic talent like this is a great thing to have. But why in the world would you want to use it to mar someone's body? Why not become a traditional artist? You know, skin gets wrinkly and old over time, and the picture changes with it. Why not something that'll last longer like a canvas?" 

"Well, the thing is...I don't hate canvases, but it's easy to do them. Plus, there's no guarantee people are going to buy your art." Quincy leaned forward, clasping his hands on his knees. "But tattoos...they're like a mark that everyone will see and remember. Have it on your arm, and people will say good things about it whenever you wear short sleeves or go to the beach.A canvas though...the only time someone will see it is if its in a museum or if someone decides to hang it on their wall. I guess I just want more people to notice." 

A whistling sound suddenly sprouted up from the other room, with William's mother standing to her feet. "Ah, the  _tea!_  Do you guys like winter spice?" 

"I've never had winter spice but I'll try it," Samantha said with a polite nod. 

Quincy also nodded in affirmation. "That sounds nice. I'm not too picky." 

Ms. Georgette placed the picture back on the coffee table, already facing away from her son and his guests. "Alright then, I'll get to making it then. Stay right there, I'll come back with your tea in a bit." 

She shimmied out of the living room, leaving the three minors remaining in their chairs. 

William didn't remain in his for long after a second, as he jumped from the couch and walked right up to Quincy, who gave him a curious glance. The teen suddenly squawked when the boy began to push his jacket sleeves up without warning. "Hey, do you have any tattoos on you right now?" 

"Hey,  _hold on!_   _Cut it out,"_ the teen cried out, flailing a bit to wiggle his sleeve out of the boy's inquisitive hands. "No, I don't! Not now anyway. My parents would tear me a new one if I did while I'm living under their roof." 

"Oh, that's good!" William let go of his arm, placing them back at his side, "I hate how they look on people. They don't let people look authentic." 

Samantha raised a brow; impressed by the boy's vocabulary, "Authentic, huh? Now that's a big word. You normally don't hear kids your age say that word." 

"You're an only kid, right?" Quincy asked, watching the boy return to his original spot. 

"Yep, it's just me!" 

"Ah, that's probably it then..." Quincy turned to Samantha, "I noticed that only kids tend to pick up bigger words quicker, especially if they hang around adults longer." 

"Wish that was true for me," Samantha scoffed, leaning more into the cushion of the couch, "I could barely understand new words in my English class in third grade." 

"Wasn't true for me either," the teen replied with withheld laughter. "It wasn't until my sister was born when I was thirteen when I started doing the homework for any of my classes." 

They talked about more things, the topics changing between school subjects to places they wanted to go. A pressure in her lower abdomen began to build up, indicating that it was about time for her to use the restroom. 

"Say, Will? By any chance, can I use your bathroom?" 

William pointed up the stairs and hooked his fingers. "Yeah! It's up the stairs and to your right. Next to the third room down the hall." 

She gave the boy a pat on the head, ruffling his dark brown hair a bit. The boy responded favorably, leaning into it. "Thanks, I'll be right back." 

She quickly got to her feet and made her way to the staircase, looking back to see the two boys left in the room engage themselves into another conversation. 

As she walked up the stairs, she took the time to admire the beautiful pictures and mirrors that were interwoven all around the walls and the hall furniture on the second floor. Even the doors had intricate designs, with gold trimmings around the archway and free of any blemishes whatsoever. Even the tan carpet seemed to be in pristine condition. 

If only the outside matched the inside in terms of looks. 

She found the bathroom and quickly relieved herself. After washing her hands, she took a look in the mirror above the sink and frowned. 

Her sandy brown hair was scattered a bit, no doubt a victim of the wind. There were small smudges on her glasses, and something she could simply clean up with a cloth. Other than that, she looked fine. 

She wondered if the same could be said for those that were still outside, waiting for her and Quincy to return. How was her Vicky and the "vampire couple" were holding up, she wondered. Were they still trying to push the car out of the ditch? Or were they waiting for them to bring the truck? While the truck would be the much easier option, she wondered just how patient the "vampires" were. While she knew Ashley a tiny bit from her Literary Arts class last year, she knew absolutely nothing about her boyfriend Clarence. Well, except that he was a bit loud. And that he drunk alcohol. Either way, despite being dressed as cold-hearted bloodsuckers, she knew they were susceptible to the cool Autumn air like every other human was. 

Well, worst comes to worst, they could either wait inside or still hold out for them. 

Running a hand through the tresses of her hair to make it more presentable and using two strips of toilet tissue to wipe her glasses, she closed the door behind herself and began to make her way back to the staircase. Now that she no longer had a full bladder, she could take a better look at the hallway she was in. 

She couldn't help but look appraisingly at the various decorations that were meticulously placed all around her, from the siding of the walls to the very ceiling. Walking back, she noticed that even the doors had different designs on them, ranging from crisscrossing wooden shapes to one having a bird cage shaped carved into the wood. 

One door a bit further down caught her eye however. It was much more simplistic in design compared to the others. In fact, as she neared it, she noticed it was slightly ajar. 

Stopping outside it, she noticed the light was on inside. She couldn't see anything from her vantage point, as it seemed to be mostly bare. 

Curiously, she leaned closer into it, hoping to get a better glimpse on what lay on the other side. 

_**"Don't look inside."** _

"Don't look inside." 

Samantha gasped and quickly twisted around. 

Mr. Ainsworth face was mere inches away from hers, his face darkened as he loomed over her, his mouth set in a deep scowl. His eyes were hard as stone, somewhat dulled and listless as he glared into her frightened hazel ones. There was an unearthly gleam in them, malevolence even. 

A second later, they returned to their jolly, shimmering blues when he leaned back up and gave her a friendly smile. "Ah...sorry, didn't mean to scare you. It's just that Will doesn't like it when someone looks in his room and all." 

"O-Okay...s-s-sorry about that sir." She said, stammering. It was as if she witnessed him change masks in an instant. 

He continued to smile down at her amicably, "It's alright. Now, I'm pretty sure there's tea waiting for you downstairs. How about you go down there?" 

Wordlessly, she nodded and steadily made her way past him and downstairs. He didn't follow, going into another room, allowing her heartbeat to settle down. 

Her brow remained furrowed as she slowly walked down the steps, her frazzled mind on the man's sudden change in demeanor.  

And the tritone voice that was spoken in unison with his.


	2. Chapter 2

It occurred to Samantha that she was a still a bit shaken up when she saw her hand trembling on the banister.   
  
The look in his eyes had seemed so malignant for a brief second, she feared that he would strike her. But he was almost instantly pacified in that moment just as quickly. She had never seen someone's emotions shift so quickly before. It was a bit terrifying, and she didn't want to experience it again.   
  
But the worst part was that she could have sworn she had heard a second voice accompany his, a completely discordant undertone that didn't sound like it was coming from regular human vocal chords.   
  
She shook her head, trying to ignore the frightening thoughts going through her head. Maybe it was just her imagination. It had been a roller coaster of a night after all, with a failed party, rolling off the road to avoid a kid, and bringing said kid back home to his parents. Even though she hadn't even had so much as a drop of alcohol, it was possible that her tired mind was just exaggerating things.   
  
She hoped.   
  
She took in a deep breath and tried to force herself to calm down.   
  
She felt some of the tension ease up when she spotted Ms. Georgette sitting down in her chair, holding a small white teacup to her lips. She spotted three more teacups sitting on the coffee table, all of them filled to the brim with a familiar amber liquid. However, she noticed that both Quincy and William were no longer present, with neither of them in immediate sight.   
  
"Ah, welcome back Samantha. Your tea's ready, waiting for you." Ms. Georgette told her between sips, watching the young girl take her seat back on her spot on the couch.   
  
"Thank you very much Ms. Georgette, it smells delicious." Samantha pulled the cup into her hands, mindful of the heat emitting from it. She took a few shallow sips, the warm liquid soothing her throat and nerves.   
  
The middle-aged woman continued to drink her tea before suddenly turning towards the other woman, "Oh, I completely forgot! Would you like some honey with it?"   
  
Samantha shook her head, "No, it's alright as it is. Thanks for the offer." After taking a few more sips, she placed the tea back on the table and decided to ask the most obvious question, "Um...if you don't mind me asking, where's Quincy and William?"   
  
It looked like Ms. Georgette had finished her tea fairly quickly, judging from how very little remained at the bottom of her cup. She said, "Oh, they're probably in one of the other rooms. Will just wanted to show him something."   
  
"I see..." she said slowly, taking another sip of the tea. "I'll wait then."   
  
"Oh don't worry too much, I'm sure they'll be back soon enough," the middle aged woman placed her hands on her lap before flashing the younger woman a warm smile. "That just leaves us women here. Care to talk?"   
  
The woman stood up from her chair, the chair creaking audibly from her absence, before moving to take a seat next to Samantha. Sitting closer to her than expected, the older woman gently took the girl's hands into hers and stared into her eyes before asking, "So Samantha, is it safe to assume you and Quincy are a couple?"   
  
Samantha squawked, flustered. Her face became crimson. "Huh!? Wh-what!  _No, no, no!_ We're nothing like that! I mean, we just got to actually know each other today! I barely knew anything about him before tonight!"   
  
Ms. Georgette cocked her head to the side in confusion, "Tonight?"   
  
"Uh, yeah...well..." Samantha took a moment to gather herself, trying to avoid the other woman's steady gaze. "You see...my best friend...she, well...she was having a mixed Halloweenish-birthday party thing. And, well... she begged me to come, so I did. Then, things got a little...intense, and it kinda ended a bit earlier than expected." She was babbling, her face still hot in embarrassment, "So, she had given me and some other people a ride back home and he was one of them and then...well, the ditch thing happened and then we decided to help get Will back home and...well that's it."   
  
She felt the woman let go of her hands and back away a bit, allowing her to have some breathing room. With an exhale, she spoke at a much more normal pace. "We're just acquaintances. Really. I've only met him a few times before, and it was just a quick 'hi and bye' and nothing more."  
  
There was a short silence between, both of them frozen in place.   
  
That was until Ms. Georgette raised a hand to her face to subdue her giggles.   
  
Watching the matron of the home silently laugh at her, she tried to keep her voice even (failing miserably to her chagrin) when she asked, "Wh-what's so funny?"   
  
After a few moments, Ms. Georgette managed to regain her composure, a wide grin still on her face. "It's nothing...it's just that, well...you're something of an obvious person. Take it as a compliment. It means you're honest."   
  
"I..uh...thank you?"   
  
Ms. Georgette let out a humored hum before she rose to her feet. "Now then. If you don't mind, there's something I need to do. I should be back soon."   
  
"Ah, okay then. I'll be right here." Samantha replied, watching the woman walk off into the kitchen and into another room that was out of her sight.   
  
Now the only person in the living room, the teenage girl was left with just her thoughts for company. With only the sound of fire crackling inside the fireplace, she was able to think more clearly than before.   
  
Of course, the first thing that came to her mind was the startling experience she had with William's father. While his sudden appearance had frightened her terribly, in hindsight, she was in the wrong for snooping around the hallway when she meant to only use their restroom. She shouldn't have peaked into someone else's space like that. It was impolite and unbecoming. When she got to chance to see him once again, she would properly apologize to him for being such a rude houseguest.   
  
Still...that second voice...   
  
She could have sworn she had heard a second voice that most certainly wasn't his by any stretch of the imagination. Like a strange reverb that rung all around her. That scared her just as much as the encounter she had with Mr. Ainsworth. It was a mental hassle to try to push it out of her mind. Maybe her ears were just playing tricks on her. Or maybe it was some weird echo effect that was caused by...something. She wouldn't know.   
  
Ugh, the better Quincy, William or Mrs. Ainsworth returned, the better.   
  
She drunk more of her tea, which continued to alleviate the returning nervousness. Taking a glance at the remaining filled mugs of the two boys who were somewhere else, she couldn't help but think that they were getting cold. She had only been in the bathroom for about five minutes at most, most of it spent getting her medium-length hair back in order.   
  
Taking a glance at a large clock situated above a line of seasonal pictures, she saw that it was nearly ten-thirty at night. Far too late for her to be taking up a stranger's time, even if they had insisted. It had been nearly half an hour since they had arrived, waiting for Mr. Ainsworth to finish whatever he was doing before and to help get their car out of the ditch with his truck. But whatever he was doing felt like it was taking far too long. Plus, she was sure that her friends were probably chilled to the bone after being outside for so long. Unless they had somehow managed to successfully pull the car out and were now waiting on them to return.   
  
Man, she wished she hadn't left her phone in the car.   
  
And with Quincy somewhere about the place, it was hard to find out there current situation.  Just where in the world were they?  
  
She decided to quickly finish her tea, her eyes still on the minute hand on the clock.   
  
She passed the time by examining several of the art pieces on the wall, as well as humming a few of her favorite pop tunes to herself, still looking out for time.   
  
It was after five minutes that she felt the need to find Quincy and let him know that it was probably time for them to get going. They had stayed over far too long now, and it was probably time to let them know that they would pass up using the tow if they were too busy to aid her.   
  
"Um...Ms. Georgette?" Samantha called out tentatively, waiting for a response.   
  
She waited a few seconds, but she didn't hear anything from the middle-aged woman.   
  
She wet her lips a bit, and called out once more. "Ms. Georgette...?"   
  
She waited again. Still no response.  
  
Feeling a bit anxious, she called out to the others who were not present. "Q-Quincy? Will? Mister...Ainsworth?"   
  
She received no reply except for the sound of crackling flames and the wind blowing from the windows.   
  
She wrung her hands together, before waiting another minute. After no one so much as called for her, she grabbed her teacup and rubbed the rim of it; a nervous habit she had since she was a young child in Pre-K.   
  
 _"Okay...take a deep breath. This house is pretty big, and looks pretty sturdy. Maybe the walls are just really thick and soundproof."  
  
_ It was the thought she used to comfort herself, but after several long seconds of silence, it would no longer relieve the tension in her heart.   
  
Feeling like it was best to start moving, she stood up and walked to the other rooms, searching for anyone inside. It would be nice if she found Quincy first, but if she came across Mrs. Ainsworth or William, she'd feel a bit better. Not so much Mr. Ainsworth, but it would be something.   
  
She didn't even spend time appreciating the beautiful decorations and furniture as she traversed room to room, looking for just another human presence. She couldn't be the only one still left in the house.   
  
After searching several of the rooms on the first floor, she wound up in a small office. There were a couple bookshelves, filled to the brim with books of different lengths and topics, as well as a large, redwood desk that was situated in front of a tall window that featured a full view of the backyard. It was too dark outside to make out everything, but the back area seemed mostly forested beyond a certain point, with nothing but bushes and trees as far as the eye could see.   
  
Upon realizing no one was in the room, she was about to leave when she suddenly knocked a folded pamphlet off an end table she had missed when she had opened the door.   
  
Not wanting to make a mess of someone else's home, she bent down to retrieve the paper and put it back where it belonged.   
  
And froze.   
  
What she originally thought was a pamphlet for a bookclub or a piano concert was something else entirely. In fact, it wasn't really a pamphlet, but a paper purposely bent in to hide the dark letters that were still visible behind the trisected folds.   
  
There was a round picture of Ms. Georgette, whose hair was much shorter and attire far more modernized than what she was wearing. Not too unusual.  
  
It was the words and numbers underneath it were that was truly worrying:   
  
 _ **TESSA LORETTA STEVENSON. MISSING. D.O.B: 5/16/71. LAST SEEN: HOUSTON, TEXAS, 4/23/13. PLEASE ALERT NEARBY AUTHORITIES IF FOUND.**_  
  
She stopped, arm still frozen in a reaching position as she examined the picture and words again and again, trying to connect them in her mind.   
  
There was no way to mistake that picture for anyone else. Her clothing and hairstyle may have been different in the picture from what she was wearing now, but the bone structure and hair and eye color were the same. The same placement of the beauty mark on her right cheek made it impossible to deny.   
  
A sudden spike of panic rose up in her chest, forcing her to clumsily return to a full upright position and take two steps back, further away from the paper on the floor and out of the study room.   
  
She yelped when something suddenly wrapped around her torso.   
  
It was gentle hug, taking hold of her into masculine arms that pulled her into a person's body.   
  
She squirmed immediately before turning around and gaping at who held her, totally bewildered.   
  
It was Quincy, his eyes soft with a warm smile on his face.   
  
His face was that of complete contentment, serene. It was as if he had found a precious gem, or had finally found someone he cared about but hadn't seen in a long time.   
  
He hugged her tighter, leaving her flabbergasted. Her lips were quivering, even when she managed to call out his name. "...Q-Quincy...? Is...Are you okay?"   
  
He nestled his chin on her head, which sent shivers down her spine. When he spoke, his voice sounded forlorn yet tender. "Oh Samantha...I'm so sorry I hadn't noticed. I should have have told you... _shown_  you that I cared."    
  
Under any other circumstances, the sandy-haired girl would have found this romantic. A bit touching even. But in this instance, it was downright bone-chilling.   
  
"Quincy..." her tone had unwittingly been squeaky, "...there's s-something not right about these people. Something's up. I found something and...I need you to call the police and...we need to go right  _now."  
  
_ The blond responded with a slow shake of his head, still lying his cheek on top of her hair. He trailed a hand across her shoulders, whispering to her, "No, don't worry. Everything's fine. Did you have a scare? There's nothing to be afraid of."  
  
 _"This isn't right,"_  was the immediate thought that came to her mind.  _"This isn't right at all."  
  
_ While she had found Quincy pretty attractive, it was just a mild infatuation at most. Nothing more, nothing less. And from all the looks and favors he had done for her best friend, she knew damn well that he had a crush on Vicky. The two had barely known each other, let alone had a talk between just the two of them.   
  
Quincy gently turned her around to face him, lowering himself to her level, so they could see each other eye-to-eye.   
  
Something was definitely wrong with his eyes. They weren't the normal bright blue color she had usually seen on him. Instead, they were a different hue entirely; dulled and glazed over, as if he wasn't fully lucid.   
  
She now recognized that look.   
  
It was the same look Mr. Ainsworth had when she tried to peek into William's room. The same eyes that her friend Vicky sported right before the incident.   
  
As he leaned forward, bringing his lips towards hers, she snapped out of her horrified trance and strongly pushed him away.   
  
The tall student had fallen onto the floor on his back with an "oof!" before he looked up her, his still listless eyes scrunched in confusion and hurt. As if she had broke his heart.   
  
She did feel bad actually, seeing him look up at her with the expression of a kicked puppy but she was far more bothered by the whirlwind of strange events that just popped up out of nowhere. She couldn't stay here. She needed to leave right away and call the cops.   
  
With a hard shake of her head, she sprinted past the fallen teenage boy, not sparing him a second glance as she made a beeline for the front door.   
  
Whatever was going on in this house was far from normal, and she was way in over her head. She'd take her chances pushing the car out of the ditch or just going to the neighbor's house for help.   
  
Whatever was the safest bet. She just needed to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.   
  
She grabbed the door handle and swung it open with all her might before she ran outside. But the moment she took a step, her foot got hooked on an upraised piece of wooden plank that had stuck out by a few inches.   
  
She stumbled forward and tripped.   
  
The best mistake she ever made when a pair of hands swung over her head to grab at her.   
  
She hit the patio hard before hastily scrambling to her feet, looking behind her to see who had tried to catch her.   
  
It was Ms. Georgette, or rather Tessa Stevenson in reality. She was still stuck in the same position, noticing belatedly that she had missed. She turned her head down to look at the fallen girl who inadvertently avoided capture. Her eyes were just as listless and dull as her "husband's." Lifeless and doll-like.   
  
Then, right from behind her, she saw Mr. Ainsworth, void of any discernible expression and running towards the patio stairs to get her.   
  
Panic-stricken, Samantha turned around and made another run for it in the opposite direction, back into the house. Tessa made another grab for her, but she quickly elbowed her to the side as she ran back in and slammed the door behind her, locking it immediately behind herself and backing against it.   
  
She heard and felt them pounding on the door behind her, the sound reverberating throughout the foyer. She took gasping breaths, her entire body shaking with fright. Her teeth were even chattering so loud, she couldn't even close her mouth to quiet them.  
  
This was wrong. This was scary, and terrifying and so utterly, damn  _wrong._  
  
How was she going to get out? How was she going to  _escape?  
  
_ Her mind raced with many futile opportunities for several seconds before a sound of rustling jarred her from her thoughts.   
  
Quincy was getting back to his feet, wobbling a bit as if he hadn't fully learned how to make proper use of his legs. His head swung about a bit before he managed to lift it up and pin her with a look, his eyes still as they were before.   
  
 _"Why_  Samantha? I don't understand...I thought you liked me." He said, walking towards her with open arms.   
  
 _"_ Stay away from  _me!"_ She screamed shrilly, bounding off the front door and running up the stairs, with him not too far behind her. Being nearly an entire foot taller than her, with longer legs and bigger lungs, he was able to rapidly close the gap with each step, forcing her to run as fast as she could. Once she made it up the staircase she continued to run from him, picking up pictures from the wall and chucking them at his face to slow him down.   
  
The blond teenager merely swiped the various picture frames away from him, his dulled eyes still locked onto Samantha's fleeing form. As his steps carried him farther than hers, she let out a cry of fear before she swung open the next door she could get into.   
  
Not wasting valuable time, she instantly tried to close the door as quick as possible. Quincy had managed to get his wrist through the doorway, which instantly began grasping around the edge for her, making her eyes go wider than they already were. She immediately put her body weight on the door, causing it to slam his grasping hand between it and the doorway. He cried out from the sudden pain, his hand jerking in place right before she hit against it again and again.   
  
After the fourth hit, he completely withdrew his hand from the edge completely, allowing for Samantha to finally shut and lock the door.    
  
With the door firmly closed, she finally allowed her legs to give out from underneath her. Collapsed against the door, she brought a jittery hand to her face, keeping her hyperventilating volume as low as she could.   
  
Her voice cracked pitifully as she she mumbled a terrified, "Oh my God...oh my God..."   
  
Had the world gone  _mad?_    
  
Dammit, why didn't this house have even one single  _phone!?_  
  
Was she going to die?   
  
 _No, no, no..._    
  
She couldn't stay there. He was going to eventually get something to break the door down. So would the other two outside. They would come for her...and then...   
  
Using the door as leverage, she got to her wobbling knees. It was as if she was a baby doe, learning to walk for the first time. The sheer act of standing had made her nauseous with fear.   
  
She took heaving breaths to relieve the incredible tightness in her chest, or at least she tried. Her breathing felt shallow and short, as if she couldn't get any oxygen in.   
  
But she was still standing...and had enough time to look for a weapon of some kind. Something to help her fight them off as she made a run for it.   
  
For the first time, she got a good look at the room she was in.   
  
The room was opulent and highly decorated, just as everything else; but now she far from interested in observing the scenery. There were several things that she instinctively took note of however.   
  
It was definitely a bedroom belonging to someone. The bed had a tall canopy wreathed in gold, sparkling curtains and the wooden floor was covered in a long, renaissance-style rug that made up most of the center. The room's furniture were a bit smaller than most, with a leather chair situated in the corner in one end and a desk in the other. In the furthest end, closest to the window, there was a table with an opaque glass pane rising about a foot and a half in height at most. There was something inside it, but she was too far to make it out clearly.   
  
At least, the finer details of it. If there was one thing she could see a little bit of, even though it was harder to tell at first, it was  _movement._  
  
Scared witless yet still puzzled, a small bit of intrigue trickled into her head. It was the strangest feeling. It was as if she was being drawn to the small table on the end of the room, a unwanted yearning to see exactly what it was that was emanating it's own light from within. An insatiable and sudden longing to investigate something she had never seen.   
  
She didn't know where this nonsensical itch of curiosity came from, but it began to overwhelm her as much as her fear, bit by bit.   
  
In fact, she literally began to feel a physical  _need_ to get closer to the table and see what was inside.   
  
Her legs carried her towards the small table of their own volition, as if they were suddenly autonomous limbs that needed no instruction. As she got closer, she realized that the table was actually a bit wider than she thought, only looking as small as it did from her vantage point from the door. The glass structure on the table was also much bigger than she thought, shaped like a gigantic petri dish in a way.   
  
Her legs churned forward, little by little, bit by bit.   
  
Soon, she found herself standing over the round glass structure, easily able to look over the hazy, glass walls and down into it from above.   
  
The first thing she saw were the several tiny dollhouses that were arranged in a way around equally miniature roads to make it look like a single neighborhood. They were all the same model: two stories tall and, strangely enough, sharing either a cobblestone exterior made out of bricks that were impossibly tiny, or clay brick of either sand or earth color.  The houses were so small, she'd be able to hold one of them between her hands like those small Betta fish starter aquariums she often saw in pet stores. The only other structures inside it were even smaller, such as the central well in the middle of a stone floor square and tinier buildings that reminded her of stores she'd seen in history books. Not much was higher than several inches in height. Only the tops of their roofs managed to be higher than the glass siding surrounding it, aside from very few trees.  
  
Speaking of trees, there were also  _little_  trees too, as small as bonsai trees but more varied in shrubbery and shapes. In fact, only a few of them actually  _looked_ like bonsai trees for the matter; most of the trees looked like they were made of oak or elms. Which was odd since they looked a lot less plastic in nature and more... _real._ Only on such a miniature scale that they didn't seem to register in her mind as real. Even the fact that the ground they were planted in, with the "grass" looking thinner than moss from her perspective, had a little over half a foot deep at the very  _most.  
  
_ And probably the most perplexing thing she noticed were the minuscule shadows, smaller than her fingers, moving within the lit windows of the already small houses.   
  
Or, as improbable as it seemed, the light coming from  _inside_ the houses.   
  
The tiny silhouettes moving about in the houses were absolutely minute yet familiar. There movements and gestures...if she didn't know any better, she would have said they looked pretty humanoid, in a sense.   
  
But that couldn't be...they were so tiny and little... _too_ tiny and little...   
  
 ** _"I warned you, didn't I?"  
  
_** She practically gave herself whiplash when she turned around, heart seized in her chest.   
  
In the corner nearest the entrance, leaning against the wall with an abnormally smug grin, was William Ainsworth. Somehow she hadn't seen him...or even thought of him as she escaped his parents and her companion. He looked completely unsurprised by her presence whatsoever. In fact, he looked as though he even expected it.   
  
There was something veritably  _off_ about him. Unlike the childlike demeanor he had beforehand, he now seemed to carry an unusual aura of maturity around him.   
  
Calm, collected.   
  
Cold, calculating.   
  
She wasn't looking at the face of the same seven or eight year old she had helped back to his home only half an hour ago. No, there was something patently sinister in his expression. A malignant gleam that she hadn't originally seen in his chocolate brown eyes. Had it always been there before? Did she only just notice it now?   
  
He chuckled a bit before he spoke, his voice inhumanly polyphonic,  ** _"Didn't I tell you not to go in my room?"  
  
_** To hear the source of that frighteningly distorted voice she heard earlier speak to her directly, especially with how it was coming from the small boy who had been whimpering against a tree earlier, made her paralyzed with fear. As much as she tried to will her body to move, it just wouldn't cooperate with her.   
  
With his eyes slightly narrowed in amusement of her apparent fear, he pushed himself from the corner and walked past her and to the edge of the glass case on the table. He grabbed the lip of it before looking to her with a small smile.  ** _"Believe it or not, you're far from the first person to help me over the years. That 'lost child' rhetoric seems to always work, no matter who comes along. It never fails."  
  
_** He gently brushed his hand against a few of the roofs of the homes inside the structure, what she now recognized as a prison. The silhouette inside each house stopped what they were doing to look upwards at their ceilings, having obviously heard his hand sliding against the top of their homes.  ** _"It's actually their curfew time, so every single one of them are inside, ready for bed. So if you're wondering if there are tiny people living inside these houses, then the answer's yes. It's true."  
  
_** It took so much willpower for her mouth to open and formulate a coherent sentence, "Wh-Wh-What...what are y-you...?"   
  
William, if that really was his name, continued to brush against the houses for a bit before turning towards her, his face surprisingly neutral.  _ **"Well, I guess I can't really classify myself as a human being anymore**  _ **now,** _ **can I? But I'm afraid I won't be able to give you a suitable answer either."**  _He smiled at her, lacking in any warmth and softness; something she didn't know was possible with his youthful image.  ** _"Well, no matter. In any case, in just a little bit, that will be a nonissue for you."  
  
_** Samantha managed to break her paralysis spell a bit to take a few shaky steps and back away from him, putting more distance between her and the supposed "child." This was all kinds of messed up. She would hear stories of ghost sighting or monsters in the night, and she would readily dismiss them as people mistaking wild animals for something they weren't or just people's imaginations gone wild. Now she no longer had a leg to stand on. Or two if they continued to shake as badly as they were now.   
  
No way...there was just no way...   
  
"Are y-y-y-you...are you r-responsible for what's g-going on with Quincy?"   
  
The boy, at least that what he seemed to be in appearance only, gave a humored smile.  ** _"Hmph, and here I thought you would originally be grateful. As a sign of my gratitude for helping me, I gave you his heart. But instead, you just run from him the first chance you get. How unkind of you."  
  
_** Samantha clenched a hand to her mouth, thinking she was going to throw up in any moment. So, this... _monster_ was responsible for Quincy acting so strangely all of the sudden. Those eyes...empty like a marionette's...   
  
"What about Ms. Georg-Tessa Stevenson? Mr. Ainsworth? They're...they're not your parents, are they?" She gulped down the bile that was rising up in her throat. "What...what did you d-do to them?"   
  
 ** _"They were some people I came across when I was...away. They were the perfect parental figures to get you to stay for a bit. Kind, caring...well, I may have had to 'tweak' them a bit to get them how I wanted."_  **His smirk was diabolical and menacing, ** _"Humans can be pretty malleable in many ways. However..."_**  
  
Samantha's heart dropped when he began to walk towards her, his eyes beheld a sadistic glee as he took slow steps towards her.   
  
His tone was considerably darker and more menacing than ever before when he said,  ** _"...Unlike my little Ainsworths, you've actually given me something to work with. I'm pretty sure you'll be no hassle at all, will you?"  
  
_** That was it.   
  
That was the all she needed to hear for her to regain full control of her body and tear away from the childlike abomination that advanced upon her.   
  
And ran for her life. 


	3. Chapter 3

He was a monster.   
  
He was a genuine monster, who hid in the disguise of a child.   
  
A predator hidden in the disguise of prey.   
  
And he was now out to get her.  
  
Samantha wouldn't stay there a second longer; she ran as fast as she humanly could.   
  
She flew down the stairs, reaching the base at record speed. The "Ainsworths" were no longer trying to bust down the door, and Quincy wasn't in sight.   
  
Too afraid to be ambushed from the front entrance, she peeled away towards where she had seen the backdoor, somewhere past the opposite end of the kitchen. Blazing through the living room and dining room, she entered the kitchen and spotted the first thing that grabbed her attention in half a second.   
  
There was a knife set on the counter between the stove and kitchen sink. Sharp and small. Weapons.   
  
Immediately, she ran towards it, reaching to pull out one of them.   
  
But then a familiar blond head suddenly stuck out from under the table, his hand shooting up to grab her wrist in an iron grip.   
  
 ** _"You shouldn't run with knives."  
  
_** "You shouldn't run with knives."   
  
She squealed in surprise when she heard both William's and Quincy's voices speak at the same time. This time, she knew it was actually the "child" actually speaking through him, using him like a sock puppet. An extension of himself harboring itself somewhere within him as a conduit.   
  
She tried to grapple with his hand, but he had a fairly powerful grip strength. And he wasn't letting go.   
  
She flinched when she heard the beginning footsteps coming from the top floor.   
  
He was coming.   
  
With frantic motions, she fought harder to try to make Quincy let go, punching and biting at his fingers. Without thinking, she brought her foot up and kicked him across the face.   
  
He cried out and let go immediately when his head hit one of the table legs with a loud thump. He brought a hand to face, trying to shake off the pain. Guilt instantly welled up inside her. After all, he just been an innocent victim of what William was doing.   
  
"Ouch...! Wh-what...?"  
  
When he spoke; however, he had sounded shocked...normal.   
  
Lifting his head to look her in the eyes, she noticed that the left side of his head was bleeding a bit, blood trickling down the side of his face. But there was something else she saw as well.   
  
His eyes were no longer dulled. In fact, they were back to the original light blues he had, and were far more expressive. As if he had awoken up from his sleep.  
  
Immediately, she somehow knew whatever hold William had on him before was gone; she was looking at the true Quincy. The normal teenage rebel who had liked Vicki.    
  
Hearing a pair of footsteps now on the steps, she breached out of this realization in milliseconds.   
  
She grabbed his hand and yanked him as hard as she could from under the kitchen table. "C'mon! We need to get outta here!"   
  
Quincy looked incredibly nonplussed, eyes scrunched in dread at her reaction. "Wait, wait,  _hold on!_  What are you talkin- _oof!"_    
  
She didn't dawdle at all to explain what was going on, too busy pulling him up and dragging him with her. Her eyes looked down an unlit hallway, one she had passed when she was initially searching for anyone, and immediately spotted the back door, the forest visible through its upper window. With Quincy behind her, she sprinted down the dark hall, not sparing a second to look around her.   
  
The second she unlocked the door, she bashed it open and ran down the stairs. The moment she made it down the last step, she felt Quincy slip his hand out of hers. When he did, she turned to look at him, seeing his face a mix between angry, confused and scared.   
  
"Samantha, what the  _hell's_  going on!? Why did you-"   
  
"The kid's fucking  _evil!"_ Samantha shrieked at him, not waiting for him to finish speaking. "H-He's got a whole bunch a people in his room trapped in this huge-ass disk on a table and had you mind controlled and shit and--Dammit, we gotta keep running!"   
  
She witnessed Quincy narrow his eyes in stupefaction, looking at her as if she had gone completely insane, even though she knew that she was saner than she had been before. But before he had the chance to saying more to her, both he and Samantha jumped when they both heard that startling not-so-childlike voice come from the top of the stairs.   
  
 _ **"I don't necessarily recommend trying to run away. You'll only make things more difficult on you in the end."**_  
  
William was now peering down on them from the top stair, his expression that of a cat that had cornered his prey. Made all the more literal in a way that the pupils in his eyes had a glow in the center of them, like the reflected lights she see in a fox's or dog's eyes in the middle of the night.   
  
But with that, Quincy no longer needed any more convincing; his eyes wide with the same terror she was feeling.   
  
"What the  _fuck!?"_  Quincy cried out, his voice going up half an octave in fright.  
  
 _"RUN!"_ Samantha shouted, already facing away from the staircase and William and sprinting to run to the other side of the house. Quincy had also turned and ran a split second later, easily catching up to her.   
  
Her lungs seemed to have shriveled up as her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Pure adrenaline was coursing through her veins, allowing her to run faster than she had ever before in her entire life. As they both got close to the side of the house, two figures shot out in front of them, causing both of them to nearly collide into them.   
  
Mr and Mrs. Ainsworth were both coming at them, arms out to grab them. They stopped right out of arms reach, the younger teens easily more flexible and agile than the older pair, evading and juking around them to avoid capture.   
  
With a short grunt, Quincy managed to push Mr. Ainsworth into 'Mrs. Ainsworth', both of them falling to the ground. Samantha followed close behind her companion as the two ignored the two adults who were struggling to get back up and booked it as much as they could. Passing the house, they continued to run up the incline in front and quickly raced down the other side.   
  
Not once did either of them look back.   
  


\----- 

Although both teens were running at full speed, thus covering more ground on the way back much faster than they came, it felt as though getting back to the car was taking longer than it should to her. 

There was no exchange between the two, both of them having been running ever since, with them both breathing heavily as they kept pushing themselves forward.  

  
Her chest burned with exertion, making it harder for her to maintain speed. Her legs were aching as she pushed herself to her limit. Her vision was still tunneling as adrenaline allowed her the strength to persist running through the dark dirt path, the only light coming from the very few lampposts placed on the ground and the moonlight shining from overhead. Had it not been for the familiar twists and turns in the road, it would have been easy for the both of them to become hopelessly lost.   
  
The sight of her friend Vicky and the couple that had rode with them up ahead was completely welcoming, a small kernel of hope rising up under the layer of exhaustion. The couple had been sitting together on the edge of the ditch while Vicky was standing in front of the upended car that still remained inside it.   
  
Her best friend had spotted them approaching, as she took a few steps away from the car to face them. Her face scrunched up in irritation when she called out to them, "What the hell!? What took you so damn  _long!?_ Where's the tow truck!?"   
  
Samantha had gathered just enough air in her lungs to shout back, "Push the car out of the ditch  _now!_ We gotta get the hell outta here! _"_  
  
The couple looked up at them with strange looks when Vicky looked a bit puzzled. Until she seemed to have gotten a better look at the blood going down the side of Quincy's face; her eyes widened in pure shock.   
  
"What the  _fuck!?_ "   
  
 _"GET THE CAR OUT!"_  
  
Aware that something was going on, Vicky didn't bother asking for an explanation. She rushed to one side of the ditch as the couple, who picked up the fear in Samantha's voice just as quickly, got to the other side, trying to push the car out from the rear.   
  
Finally reaching them, both Samantha and Quincy immediately joined them, putting their weight behind the car.   
  
The car wasn't large but it was considerably heavy, nearly two tons in weight, and the angle it was facing out only allowed for the back wheels to touch down onto the ground. It stubbornly seemed rooted in place, even with all of its riders pushing at once.   
  
Samantha put her back into pushing it as hard as she could, feeling the strain of both being depleted of energy and urgency to leave the area and never return.    
  
It took several seconds of heaving and pushing but the car finally started to actually move forward and up, the back wheels finally beginning to climb from the dirt. Actually  _moving._  
  
All five teenagers continued to push the car up, feeling the brunt and weight of the vehicle as it slowly began to hang out from the roadside trench little by little.   
  
Then, the front of the car finally landed upright on the street with a loud creak, the back following just onto the grass plateau.   
  
Not sparing a moment to celebrate, the teenagers made haste, quickly scrambling out of the ditch and into the car.   
  
Samantha, who was breathing heavily, was in the back this time, in between Ashley and Clarence, while Vicky was back in the driver's seat with Quincy in the passenger's. Vicky immediately tried to put the car into ignition.   
  
The engine whinnied several times as she continually twisted the key back and forth. It wasn't starting.   
  
Clarence, confused and a bit fearful, clenched the back of Vicky's chair and cried, "What are you doing!? Get the car going!  _Hurry!_ "    
  
"I'm  _trying!"_ Vicky hissed, still turning the key to get the engine running. "It won't...it won't..."   
  
"Oh my God, Quincy! What the hell happened? You're  _bleeding!"_  Ashley whispered, bringing both hands to her mouth in shock.  
  
Quincy, clutching one hand to the side of his head, sputtered, "Not now, not now...we gotta go. We gotta go  _now."_    
  
"Vicky, hurry!"   
  
"What do you think I'm trying to  _do!?_  It won't mo-"   
  
 ** _"Going into one small, confined space at once. You all couldn't have made this easier for me if you_ tried."   
  
**Everyone heard the voice and flinched at its suddenness and tone.  
  
Then, something very strange happened.   
  
It felt like the car was beginning to go downward. Almost like it was falling.   
  
Samantha clutched the bottom of her seat when she suddenly felt weightless, as if she weighed less than a feather. Her body felt warmer than usual as her arms and legs became numb. In fact, it felt like she was losing sensation all throughout her body as something akin to anesthesia but without the need to rest. In fact, she was more aware than ever before. And she could still scream, just like everyone else was.   
  
The dirt road was expanding in all directions, becoming longer and wider by the second. The grass where the ditch was seemed to be rising higher and higher, growing higher at an alarming rate; going from merely overgrown to tall savannah-high grass to enormous stalks that literally hung over the car like weeping willows. Everything was rising higher, spreading out, getting  _bigger._ Even the sky seemed to be getting further and further away, becoming more vast than it already was.   
  
It was too frighteningly surreal.   
  
After several seconds, the car felt like it stilled and all the sensations returned to her body at once. Everyone had seemed to have experienced the same thing as they all shared different variations of dismay and confusion. Whimpers, terror-filled murmurs and heavy breathing filled up the interior of the car as everything began to finally wind down.   
  
At first.   
  
It was hard to imagine the world having suddenly blown up in size to such a degree. Anything further down the field of sandy, gravel and boulder filled dirt seemed become blurry, caught in a haze. The ground was far more uneven looking, with deep ripples and crevices everywhere she looked. In fact, it looked more like a desert field given just how far it went, beyond the horizon from her view.   
  
And then there was the sudden jungle next to it and behind them, the grass blades so tall that the bending green spikes looked to obscure anything beyond it, forming their own canopies with how bunched they were together.   
  
And the trees...   
  
They were absolutely monstrous in size, bigger than the right they had to be. Even from so incredibly far away, they rose up hundreds upon hundreds of feet in the air, taller than all the skyscrapers she had seen in her entire life. And the bushes next to them had also been impossibly gigantic in proportion.   
  
Her heart clenched in her chest when the horrible realization occurred to her of exactly  _what_  just happened.   
  
Had she not been inside that room and saw those tiny moving silhouettes in those tiny little houses, she wouldn't have believed it.   
  
But now, she knew exactly what had happened to her. What happened to all of them.   
  
Just as the awareness of it all began to set in, the ground underneath shook violently.   
  
Everyone cried out as the earthquake shook them around inside the car. Samantha closed her eyes and gripped the back of the front seats as everyone else latched onto something or someone for cover, huddled down or into their seats as the tremors grew more in their intensity until they were basked in a massive shadow.   
  
Samantha opened her eyes, horrified to see that the view of the desert had been completely blocked off by a dark brown wall that had seemingly came out of nowhere. But judging from Vicky and Quincy's horrified faces, they had clearly seen where it did appear from.   
  
"W-W-What...?" Vicky had whispered with quivering lips, her hands tightly holding on to the wheel.   
  
Samantha cautiously leaned into the gap between the front seats to look up to see what they were seeing.   
  
It was a good thing she had used the bathroom when she did.   
  
It was a simple shoe. A brown, leather loafer to be exact, the dress shoes she'd see men wear to business meeting or formal occasions.   
  
But the proportions were completely immense. In fact, it was the size of a truck, the toe of it was higher than the car hood itself. It easily dwarfed the car, being so large that it almost looked like a prop. At least it would have had it not been for how realistic it looked up close, scuffed marks and signs of wear on it. And the fact that there was a second one of equal, massive size situated a couple dozen or so feet apart from it...   
  
...with towering, billowing pant legs that were rising higher than she could see with her vantage point.   
  
She shot back into her seat and pressed herself as tightly as she could into the back of her chair.   
  
 _"This couldn't be happening...this couldn't be happening...this couldn't be happening..."_  
  
On both sides of her, Ashley and Clarence were desperately trying to suppress their terror, failing miserably as they both could be heard wailing into their hands or covering their eyes. That only served to increase her own fear tenfold.   
  
Then there was a weird sound from above, like air being displaced. The shadow the car was in grew darker and darker, only for several gigantic appendages to wrap around the sides of the car, making its structure and wheels creak loudly and evoking ear-piercing screams from its occupants.   
  
A split second later, they were rocketing upwards into the sky.   
  
It was like being launched up in a roller coaster, or an elevator that was moving too high too fast. There wasn't much she could hold onto except her own chair, and even that didn't feel like it would help. She couldn't even make out much from the front windows, they were moving just too fast. She could only scream with the others as they continued to go up and up.   
  
Then, the car's dizzying ascent began to slow down before coming to a relative stop.   
  
Right in front of a massive face, an enormous dark brown eye baring down on them.   
  
How was she not fainting dead away right now?   
  
There was a resounding chuckle, so loud and booming that it physically shook the car from its sheer volume.  _ **"Well..."**  _The sound and its reverb came from everywhere at once,  ** _"...isn't this a wonderful treat."  
  
_** The act of the eye narrowing just a bit elicited newfound screams from the car.   
  
It was William, that had been impossible to deny. But instead of the already terrifying abomination in a small childlike form Samantha discovered him to be, he was now a colossus as well. It was all truly insane.   
  
And even more insane now that she realized he wasn't an actual giant.   
  
No, he was normal sized for a child who appeared his age. It was them who had drastically changed in size.  
  
 _ **"Instead of just two of you, I get to have**  _ **all** _ **of you."**  _The colossus rumbled once more, laughing in that distorted and vastly amplified voice of his,  ** _"Five brand new toys...it's been a while since I got this many in one go."  
  
_** Samantha witnessed Vicky push herself out of her chair and scramble to the back of the car, landing on her and Clarence's laps as she tried to put as much distance between the enormous orb that gazed inside the car. Quincy, on the other hand, tried to duck down under the compartment as much as he could, muttering to himself in fear.   
  
That gigantic eye continued to look inside the car for a bit, with Samantha unable to tear away from it as much as she wanted to, for several long seconds. Then the car shuddered harshly, causing everyone to bump into something as the appendages, what she now knew were actually  _fingers_ thicker than her entire body, shift and readjust themselves.   
  
The entire left side of the car was obscured by a fleshy wall as it occurred to her that William had merely switched hands. A sound of something large coming up from underneath was heard as soon, a tree trunk sized thumb and forefinger had gripped the edge of one side of the car, above and below it. Then, there was a horrible whine of metal being crunched that brought upon a new level of terror.   
  
"He's going to  _crush us!"_ Either Vicky or Ashley screeched, not that Samantha was concerned knowing which one yelled it. It had been a long time since she went to church, but she quickly began muttering prayers under her breath, begging not to die.   
  
But the car didn't crunch inward, as they all had expected. Instead, the pressure seemed to had been applied solely to the door mechanisms, in which the two enormous fingers pinched which caused both right hand doors to bend outward before coming straight out, hanging out on open air.   
  
And leaving them open.   
  
The fingers lowered from view, the movement causing its own wind pressure that only served to make them feel more vulnerable than ever before. They witnessed the giant give them a smug smirk right before the car inverted itself, making a near one-eighty in less than a second.   
  
Quincy, Vicky and Ashley fell out immediately, screaming. She could hear their voices from right below her, echoing in her ears.   
  
She had managed to grab onto the buckle of the seatbelt at the last second, the velcro strap extended down to its full length as she dangled right above the empty space underneath her. Her knuckles were reddening from how tightly she was gripping it.  
  
Clarence, who was right under her, his head level with her stomach, had also been lucky. He was holding on for dear life onto the side of the front chair, his fingers gouging out holes and digging into the leather as deep as they could.   
  
As much as she wished she could help him, she could only try to push herself higher, trying to lift her feet up and into the gap between chairs to get more leverage. But she just couldn't get her foot high enough, especially with what limited movement the back of the front chairs and Clarence allowed her.   
  
That short, booming, polyphonic laugh came again, clipped and mocking,  ** _"Nice try."  
  
_** And with one powerful shake of the car, Samantha lost her grip on the buckle, her hands scrabbling in mid air for purchase before she slid past Clarence's upper body, grabbing and accidentally pulling off one of his shoes before falling through the opened right door with him following down from above her.   
  
She had barely began screaming only to find out that the fall hadn't been as unforgiving as she anticipated when she had landed on something taut and leathery, a warmth emanating from underneath her. A second later, she heard Clarence fall a few feet away, but she was facing away from him, her eyes unable to focus on where to look. There were enormous whorls and lines all around her, with a constant thrum moving underneath her. Three jointed towers that were taller and thicker than she was were behind her, hanging over her and a dazed Clarence. In fact, now that she was getting her bearings straight, she saw that the other three who had fallen before her were there too.  
  
She had realized she had fallen into the hollow of William's hand, which had been waiting for each of the teenagers the entire time.   
  
Lifting her head up, she first saw Quincy, who was sprawled out near the base of thumb. Although he was the tallest of the group, even he looked shorter in comparison to the digit, maybe only as tall or even a tiny bit shorter than the pinkie finger behind her. Clarence had fallen close to the edge, right on the opposite of the lifeline across from her. Vicki and Ashley were right next to each other in the center of the huge palm and looked shaken and dizzy.   
  
And looming far above them was William's gigantic head, a literally larger-than-life smile across his face as his eyes looked down on them.  
  
It was only then that she was aware of the warmth and moisture on the side of her eyes, and that fearful tears were already streaming down them.   
  
William chuckled, the sound so overpowering that it felt like a physical force, leaving her ears ringing.   
  
When she heard the voice once more, it seemed to come out of nowhere as the giant's mouth wasn't moving.  _ **"I did recommend that you shouldn't try to escape you two,"**  _The voice was addressing her and Quincy, that much she could barely comprehend,  ** _"But I guess that worked out in my favor after all."  
  
_** Her stomach felt queasy, painfully aching in anxiety and dread. He had been so confident that he would be able to catch them. Now she knew why.    
  
She heard Ashley begin to openly sob, and saw her crouch down in a kneeling position, clutching her head in her hands.   
  
"Oh God...we're all going to die...we're all going to die...we're all going to die..." she mumbled, looking afraid beyond compare.   
  
One eye squinted down on them as the giant snickered a bit, nearly deafening her. His mouth still remained closed when he said,  ** _"Oh don't worry...I have absolutely no intention of killing any of you. In fact, I won't harm a single hair on any of your puny little heads."  
  
_** Samantha only had began to wonder just how he managed to hear their voices at all, given that they all had to be the size of figurines. The hand they were on suddenly moved up, subjecting them to some air pressure and bringing them closer to his eyes. What he said next sounded more to taunt them rather than reassure them,  ** _"After all, I take_ very  _good care of my toys."_**  
  
The panic she felt rose to new heights as she remembered those itty bitty houses, trees and moving shadows once more.   
  
Now she knew exactly how they came to be so little in the first place.   
  
Samantha's voice was so quiet and feeble when she asked, "Are you g-going to put us in that place in your r-room?"   
  
Despite his eyes being so large and far apart that they were hard to take in all at once, seeing them shift just a bit let her know that she had his attention on her.  ** _"Of course, naturally. After all, you're all now the perfect size to live there."  
  
_** When he leaned in even more, she could literally hear the inner workings of his body moving to perform such a simple action. He was so close that now only one of his eyes was visible from her perspective.   
  
His tone was derisive when he cooed,  ** _"You shouldn't have allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, Samantha. The transition would have been much easier on you if you had just stayed put, not that it would've mattered in the end."  
  
_** As he said that, Quincy began to slowly lean up from his position. His head bobbled a bit as if he was still out of it, either from his head wound or the fall. Samantha watched in astonishment as he slowly began to stand up, teetering side to side before he faced away from the enormous face behind him and looked directly at her.   
  
"Samantha, I'm really sorry about earlier," he said softly, sounding apologetic. He gave her a small smile as he tentatively took steps towards her.   
  
She gasped when she saw that his eyes were the same dull and listless shade they were when he had tried to plant a kiss on her, when he tried to capture her.   
  
He was back under whatever spell or mind control William had placed on him before.    
  
"I didn't mean to come off that strong. I just meant to show how I felt about you," he continued to slowly make his way towards her. She continued to scoot away, but when she bumped into the first joint of Will's pinkie, she glanced between the gap in his fingers and paled.   
  
It was a very long way down; there was no possible way she'd be able to survive such a fall.   
  
Quincy continued to advance, and she tried to move more towards the middle finger, unable to balance on the slightly moving and uneven platform. She stumbled away just as Quincy reached down towards her with an open hand, tripping into a kneeling position. She looked beyond Quincy to the enormous face behind him, addressing the puppeteer rather than the puppet. "Let him go! You damn  _monster!_  You can't do this to him!"   
  
 _ **"Now why would I do that?"**  _He sneered at her.She barely saw leering eye widen a bit, humored by someone a tiny fraction of his size demanding something of him.  ** _"After all, isn't this what you wanted?"  
  
_** "Yeah Samantha!"   
  
The sandy-haired girl whipped her head to Vicky, who had turned towards her along with Ashley. To her horror, they both sported the same lifeless, fish-eyed look, their mouths up in a dopey grin.   
  
"Why are you rejecting him so harshly?" Vicky asked as if admonishing her, "You should at least give him a chance."   
  
"Not you  _too,"_  she whispered, trembling. She would've restarted the whole day again. She would have stayed at the party until it ended. She would have asked her father to pick her up. Hell, she would have never bothered even volunteering to take back whatever dark pit this demon child came from.   
  
"You should really at least try to go on a first date at least. Try courting, it might suit you." Ashley had offered, her voice artificially sweet.   
  
 _"He_  likes  _you!_ " Samantha screamed, pointing from the blond who remained crouched where she was to her best friend's face. She didn't care that she outed his secret, it just had to work. "He likes you and has the  _entire time!_ Not me!  _YOU!"  
  
_ The proclamation didn't work, as both of their expressions remained stagnant. Quincy gave her a slightly perplexed expression in turn however, shaking his head. "Oh Samantha. I don't know what you're talking about." His expression softened once more, looking odd with the streaks of blood still coming down one side. "I've only had my eyes for you this entire time."   
  
"Dammit you guys,  _snap out of it!"_ she hissed between clenched teeth, crab-walking away from them as they gave her those dreary eyes. How did agreeing to going to one party for her friend lead up to  _this?  
  
_ "This isn't you! This isn't  _any of you!_  He's  _making_  you guys do this! He's..."   
  
Something strange began to occur deep inside of her.   
  
A strange, insidious calm began to settle within her mind, sweeping away her panic in an instant, pacifying her bit by bit. It was drowning out her terror, her thoughts, her worries.    
  
She couldn't even remember what she was about to say. Was it really important? In fact, why did she even try to remember it in the first place?   
  
Deep down, she knew exactly what was going on...but slowly and surely, she was beginning to not pay it any regard. It was slowly becoming an afterthought. It would pass, yes it would pass.   
  
But there was a tiny bit of her that retained that worry, fighting the layers of peace that was overriding her mind. Small, like a tiny spark.   
  
And with that tiny spark of independent thought, even as her eyes began to lose their own shine, she looked to that gigantic brown eye that looked down on her and moaned her final plea, "Stop this..."   
  
William responded by letting out short single laugh before quenching that tiny spark in an instant.  ** _"Ha."  
  
_** Then Samantha felt nothing but utter peace. Quiet, gentle peace. And love...a love she had for someone. A strong powerful love she had for the one she had rejected.   
  
She felt a soft hand grab her own and she turned around to see Quincy, his face filled with bliss that she had finally come around. "Oh Samantha, I'm really sorry about earlier. Would you forgive me?"   
  
Of course she would. How could she not. "Quincy, you know I will. I should be apologizing to you." She raised a hand to the side of his face to gently stroke it, her eyes becoming sympathetic. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I don't know what I was thinking...are you alright?"   
  
Quincy grabbed her hand and rubbed his forehead on the back of it tenderly. "Of course I am. It's just a minor wound, it'll heal in due time." He looked back at her, his eyes shimmering just a bit. "I'm just glad that you gave me another chance. I was so worried..."   
  
A voice sounded from behind her,  ** _"You love him, don't you Samantha?"  
  
_** She giggled. Their watcher knew full darn well the answer. Wasn't it apparent? Was a vocal answer really necessary?   
  
But as they lovingly gazed upon each other, she still felt a bit inclined to answer the question.   
  
Allowing herself to be pulled into Quincy's warm embrace and reciprocating it fully, she said, "Of course I love him. I always will."   
  


\----- 

"William," at least that was the name he chose to go by for the past twenty-seven years this time around, lowered his hand to chest level as he allowed himself to laugh quietly. Another few hapless souls to join his collection.

The process of acquiring new people was always a bit exciting, even though he had done it numerous times whenever he needed to supply the little town he had created with new people to either replace those who fell deathly ill or had already passed on. While every few decades he would find a good candidate for him to join the rest of his toys, usually it would only be by ones or twos. To have five people at once was quite a nice catch. 

He watched as the two continued to hug each other, with the two other girls, Ashley and Vicky he had caught from entering their minds, speaking in jubilee. 

"Oh, how romantic!" Ashley had said, clasping her hands in glee. Being able to read their thoughts had allowed him to "hear" them despite their nearly microscopic voices, their physical voices not really registering in his ear beyond the faintest of whispers if that. "They just look so beautiful together! Oh, this is just too much!" 

"Can you imagine what'll happen in the future?" Vicky asked, also joyous in her gestures. "They'll have their first date, then propose then...oh I can see just what a wonderful marriage they will have!" 

"Truly, truly!" Ashley agreed, watching them part from the hug. "Oh you two...husband and wife! The wedding would be absolutely  _extravagant!"_  

Quincy laughed, still maintaining eye contact with Samantha, who smiled up at him gently. "Well, why wait?" 

All three women present gasped as the blond got on one knee and gently took the sandy-haired girl's hands into his. "I don't have a ring, but should my heart suffice...would you agree to being my bride?" 

William smiled observing the proposal. Of course she would. After all, whatever kind of life they had before would be a nonissue once they were inside the town he made. 

There was a sudden tiny squeal of terror and his eyes focused on the one person he hadn't taken control of yet, the young man dressed up in a fake vampire costume that had been the first to yell out at him during his "frightened child act." Clarence was his name; he had somehow forgotten about him, despite being right there in his palm. 

Clarence, completely and utterly terrified by the change in demeanors in his girlfriend, friends and acquaintances, pushed himself up and tried to make a mad dash to a gap between his fingers, looking fully prepared to jump off just to escape him. 

William sneered and simply curled his index finger back, sending the tiny "vampire" scuttling back towards the center of his palm. A split second later, he forced himself into his mind and willed him to become docile. He too now had the same mind-controlled eyes that the others shared and looked on expectantly at Samantha and Quincy.  

With that brief distraction done and over with, he looked back at the "couple" in his hand and said,  _ **"Go on, Samantha. Give him your answer."**_

Samantha, her hazel eyes now a darker hue, looked from Will's overhanging face back to Quincy's before smiling. "Of course, Quincy. I'd love to be by your side." 

The other three clapped and cheered uproariously as the two were once again in a tight, loving embrace. 

Even after all this time, he had still enjoyed having his people enter the relationships he had arranged for them. It was a pastime that never got old, even after doing this for well over a century. Well, and watching his little denizens perform their duties and go about the daily lives he led them to believe they always had. 

Even back in the late nineteenth century, before he first became what he was and acquired such a power, he had enjoyed watching people go about their own affairs, living their lives in the way they only knew how. But he could only see snippets of their lives, tiny pieces of a vast picture. Having their own agendas and goals that he would never be able to see. 

It irked him greatly. 

People who wasted their potential on trivial matters. Those who remained stagnant until pressured to do something else. Those who refused to take risks to go beyond their means. The very many who lived their lives without accomplishing anything of value, or worse yet, take advantage of the already disadvantaged to live their lives without trying. 

He would fix that. 

Samantha had no intention of expressing her crush on Quincy to him originally. And while he did intensify her feelings for him tenfold, it would have been a huge waste for her to never admit her feelings. Especially as she tried to denied it when she was talking with Georgette, or rather, to him through her. 

That little final act of resistance... 

He shook his head with mirth. 

Several times a few of his newest acquisitions would try to mentally fight off his control. Not unexpected in the slightest. Almost common place. 

They always had, they'd always will, and they'd always fail.  

And for Quincy to waste his incredible talent on becoming a _tattoo artist?_  What a waste of potential. He found the sheer abundance of tattoos of this current generation utterly absurd and unsightly. For someone to permanently mar their skin in such a way...such an imprudent era he was now in, their values corroded with overly individualistic sensationalism. Well, at least he didn't have any on him and never will. And it was easy to find a purpose for him now, he'd be sure to make him the town painter. He would figure out the idiosyncrasies of all his new additions in a short bit. And if he didn't like them, he'd change them. He had a lot of practice doing that.

Like Mrs. Georgette Ainsworth, the name he had given to Tessa Stevenson, whom had originally been such a scornful woman, the thought of being around children made her sick. He definitely needed to change that nasty little aspect of hers, and soon she was his stand-in "mother" and the little town's nanny, kind and meek in her ways. A vast improvement to the former person she used to be. At least Mr. Ainsworth didn't really need to be altered that much, having already been a kind man before he had fell for the same trick he used on his current victims. 

Either way, he had what he came for and gingerly closed his hand around his tiny new citizens, cradling them in his palm. Now he had only small matters to finish. 

First, he would return "home" and have "Mr. Ainsworth" finish making a bell tower for the thirty-three inhabitants of his makeshift town and "Mrs. Ainsworth" make him a meal before he'd shrink them back and put them back into the town where they'd belong. Already he was remotely having Avery and his brother John clean up the new living spaces that were being arranged for his new "toys." 

Before he took a step, he noticed a phone in the grass, full sized with a cracked screen. 

There were only two numbers dialed in,  _91-._

Of course. 

Without even thinking who it may have belonged to, he dropped the tiny car in his other hand next to it and snapped his fingers. Both the vehicle and cellphone blew up in a burst of blue fire, the blazes dying out just as quickly as they came. 

Not looking back, he stepped through the trees and disappeared into the shadows with his tiny puppets in hand, vanishing without a trace. 

\----- 

She looked stunning in the beautiful wedding gown. More radiant she had ever looked before. 

As little Elizabeth, the young flower girl whom had greeted her so warmly only week ago, eagerly held the tail of her long dress as they walked down the aisle, she couldn't help but feel like she was now the happiest woman in the world. 

Outside, where the tall bell tower had been constructed fairly recently, stood both the priest Reverend Christopher and her soon to be husband Quincy. He looked absolutely splendid in his white three-piece suit and top hat. A true gentleman. 

He looked at her and smiled brightly, his eyes brimming with barely restrained tears. She herself felt moved with joy, and filled endless happiness of what was about to come. 

Although earlier, she had felt small wedding jitters that would make its way into her heart at random, but they were just that. After all, who wasn't a little bit nervous to start a new life together with the one they love? 

The townspeople who were sitting in chairs on either side of her watched in absolutely awe as she slowly made her way towards the decorated archway where her beloved stood. Vicky was openly crying, wiping her eyes with her gloved hand while Clarence and Ashley consoled her. She couldn't help but smile; how did she wound up with such wonderful friends. While her father wasn't here to see her big day, it would be alright. She had more than enough for her to treasure.

When she made it to the top, she couldn't help but feel enamored with her groom. To think she would now join him in marriage. It was so surreal. 

The reverend, in his priestly garb that reached the ground, cleared his throat before speaking. "Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the joining of Quincy Lafayette and Samantha Campbell in marriage. With love and commitment, they have decided to live their lives together as husband and wife." 

As the priest talked about the beautiful purpose of marriage and the importance of togetherness, Samantha could only stare lovingly into the blonde's beautiful eyes, completely mesmerized. How fortunate was she to be getting a husband such as him? A blessing bestowed upon her from above. What an utterly blissful feeling to know that she would have a companion of such wonderful caliber by her side for the rest of her life. 

The priest tied up his speech before addressing the bride and groom, who only looked at each other lovingly the entire time. 

It was time for the vows.

"Do you, Quincy Lafayette, take Samantha Campbell to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?" 

Quincy's face softened, his smile brightening. "I do." 

Reverend Christopher than turned to the bride, the veil covering most of her face. "And do you, Samantha Campbell, take Quincy Lafayette to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?" 

  
She smiled endearingly and opened her mouth to speak. 

Suddenly, she felt a sudden jolt in the recesses of her mind. Screaming, pleading... 

_"Don't!"_ it shouted, far far below her feelings of love and joy. 

But it was so quiet, and even then it began to die out as quickly as it came. 

Her mind refocused on the man in front of her, who patiently awaited her answer. 

As an all-encompassing love quickly drowned out the last traces of self awareness she would ever have again, she finally gave him her answer. 

"I do."


End file.
